Alive
by xNearImpossiblex
Summary: Rachelle Cornwell is a young woman, who is Booth's intern to become an FBI Agent. Zack Addy is Bone's assistaint. Both are underestimated in their fields. Together, they find understanding and belonging. They find out the true meaning of being alive.
1. Chapter 1: Are You Sure?

_Hey, Near here or L.E. Hicks, whatever. So this is a Bones story because I love the TV series. Obviously, its a Zack love story as I adore that adorable yet, clueless squint. Anyway, it will be following the main series storyline up to Season 4, so the Gormodgon killer will be part of the plot if this story goes far. However, I will create my own twist to it because I hate what they did to poor Zack. Either way, all I own is my OC, some other created characters, and some plot points. I hope you enjoy. If you do, please review. If you don't like it, don't read it. Flames are inappropiate yet, I don't mind constructive criticism._

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**Chapter One: Are You Sure?**

"Are you sure?"

Those three words had followed Rachelle Cornwell since she was a child. All she would ever hear to anything she wanted to do in life was "Are you sure?" She had no idea why. Maybe it was because of her short height or her weak-looking stature or maybe even her baby face—who knew?

Her older brother, Justin asked her that the day she decided to become an FBI agent. Not that she blamed the simple Science teacher because becoming an FBI agent was certainly a big leap from a librarian. Nonetheless, Rachelle didn't appreciate the question she always received, especially from her family.

Even now, as an adult of twenty-two, almost twenty-three, she was still asked "Are you sure?" Today, the inquirer happened to be her be role model and mentor, FBI Agent Seeley Booth. The subject, being whether she was sure she wanted to accompany him in field work.

"Uh… let's see. Do field work for the first time or stay at the office filing papers like always? Hmmm. That's a tough one." the dirty blonde-haired woman replied with deep sarcasm. She dramatically gestured with her many ringed hands making them seem like they were scales.

Booth was not amused. He glared down at her with his dark eyes and his fists on his hips. "Y'know, sarcasm will get you nowhere, kid." he retorted yet, he had grabbed his car keys and jacket indicating that he was ready to head out—Rachelle going with him. The ex-sniper was use to the female's sharp wit.

"It seems to get you pretty far, sir." his student pointed out as she trailed behind him through the FBI bureau while slipping on her own jacket. A huge smirk was on her young, pale face.

The intern held back a snicker when she heard the well-built and handsome man grumpily mumble under his breath: "Out of all the interns they could've given me to mentor, why did it have to be a smart-ass kid?" Rachelle just grinned, saying nothing as Booth and she filed into the SUV.

Now, from most people's point of view, Agent Seeley Booth and Intern Rachelle Cornwell's relationship was one that wasn't…well, very positive. And that was quite true. However, despite how much they fought, they were somewhat alike—much more than they'd like to admit. Booth was a serious man, who was a bit—and quietly—rebellious while Rachelle was a sarcastic and quick-witted girl, who—much to everyone's surprise—did her job by the book. Deep down, they were both kind-hearted people with a good head on their shoulders; they just didn't like to show that side too often. The same yet, not.

"So who are we picking up? And where are we going?" Rachelle asked, sitting in the passenger seat with her booted feet on the dashboard and her long index finger fiddling with a short strand of hair.

"First of all, get your feet off the dashboard. I have no idea where those boots have been." the short-haired man began, shooting her a scolding look in the corner of his narrow eye. It wasn't true, but it seemed that those black buckled heeled boots were the only shoes she wore.

Rachelle grumbled "On my feet" as she put her feet down, but he ignored the witty remark and went on with answering her questions, "And second, we're picking up Dr. Temperance Brennan."

Rachelle perked up, her hazel eyes now twinkling gold from the D.C. sunlight and excitement. "Wait, do you mean _the _Dr. Temperance Brennan!? As in the best-selling author?! _That _Dr. Temperance Brennan?!" she questioned.

"Oh, great, another fan." groaned Booth, keeping his eyes on the road. He sighed deeply. "Yes, that's her. We've done some cases before—before I had you forced on me. She's returning from Guatemala in a couple of hours and we need to pick her up, so she can help us with this most recent case."

"Sweet!" she beamed widely, acting like a little kid as she returned to sitting normally in her seat. It was times like that that made Booth wondered how Rachelle could not know why people—including himself—treated her like a child.

Naturally, Booth pointed that out to her, "And you wonder why everyone treats you like a child. It's because of outbursts like that." She just glared at him to which he returned evenly before retuning his attention to the road. He knew the rest of the ride to the airport would be quiet as Rachelle always ignored him when he made fun of her concerning her height, age, and etc.

Booth wasn't complaining. A silent car ride, especially one with a particular blonde, was a good one. Besides, he knew in half an hour or so, he'd have an older and much more difficult woman to deal with.

**~*--*~**

"Now, I may not know Dr. Brennan like you do, Seeley, but as a woman, I'm pretty sure this is a _bad _idea." Rachelle commented, following her mentor throughout the airport. She was finding it difficult to keep up with the tall man's strides as they headed to the Homeland Security Office of the airport.

"Don't call me Seeley, Rach." was all he said. The fair-haired girl rolled her bright eyes. _That has __**nothing**__ to do with what I just said._, she thought irritably.

When they had arrived at the airport, Booth had explained to his intern how he had set-up this whole operation on picking up Dr. Brennan after she got off her plane. Apparently, he had arranged a Homeland Security officer to sneak up on the poor woman, arrest her for having bones on her person, and then, keep her cooped up in the security office pretending to interrogate her until Booth and Rachelle arrived--coming to the "rescue" as he so put it. Rachelle had no idea why Booth thought that was a good idea. No one would appreciate that, especially if they figured it out and from her novels Rachelle got the feeling that Dr. Brennan was a borderline genius—maybe more so.

Finally, they stopped at the office door, but Booth didn't allow them in. The brunet turned to the short woman. "Before we go in, promise me that you'll behave. That you'll be normal." He paused. "Actually, you know what? Promise me you won't be you. Be professional."

"Are you serious?" Rachelle's jaw nearly dropped.

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"…I'm professional."

"…"

"I am!"

Booth sighed. "Just promise me, all right?"

She rolled her eyes again in annoyance. "_Fine_. Yeah, I promise."

"Good girl." he nodded then, opened the door and stepped inside. Rachelle begrudgingly trailed behind.

When Booth and Rachelle entered as a bald, dark-skinned man was harassing Dr. Brennan, who seemed like she was defending herself quite well. Rachelle was ready to jump up and down from seeing her most favorite author yet, kept calm to avoid a glare or scolding from her teacher.

Shortly, Dr. Brennan sensed the two's presence and turned her auburn-haired head in their direction. An irritated expression was apparent on her lovely face. "What are _you _doing here?" she said pointedly to Booth.

Booth took that as he cue to step in and flash his badge. "FBI Agent Seeley Booth and this is my assistant of sorts, Miss. Rachelle Cornwell." he announced, while indicating to the girl beside him. "Bones identifies bodies for us."

"I told you," Brennan told the Homeland Security officer then, glanced to Booth. "And _don't_ call me Bones."

"I see. So she's a forensic anthropologist and works for the FBI?" the other man said a bit skeptically. Brennan made a face; she had been trying to explain that to him for the past twenty minutes.

"Yeah. She's an author, too." Booth said in a teasing tone as he grabbed Dr. Brennan's book from Rachelle's messenger bag and slid it across the metal table. Brennan did not look pleased, but the Homeland Security seemed convinced.

"All right. She's free to go." the bald man said with a dismissive wave of his hand. Booth beamed.

"Wait," Brennan began confused. "That's it? You went to all that trouble to just be told from a Federal Agent exactly what I told you?" The man shrugged. A scowl came across her face and she turned his brilliant eyes on the FBI Agent. "You set this up, didn't you?"

For a few brief moments, no one said anything. Both men were making faces while Rachelle was trying to restrain herself from busting out laughing. Brennan shook her head. "I cannot believe you." she said, gathering her stuff into her arms and she rose to her feet.

She pushed past Booth. He followed her and Rachelle followed them but not before Booth shot her a look that clearly read: "Don't even say it." The twenty-two-year-old just smirked triumphantly and said nothing as she followed the couple.

**~*--*~**

Nearly forty-five minutes later, and after a big argument between Booth and Bones, the three arrived at a pond near a military cemetery where the FBI forensics squad and agents—with trucks and such—were waiting for them. They got out the SUV and headed towards the pond only to be greeted by a baby-faced young man with a mop of brown hair and brown eyes to match.

"Dr. Brennan. The eco-warrior look suits you." he greeted with a sweet smile. "Very action-oriented."

Dr. Brennan grinned back. "Thank you, Zack." she said gratefully. She glanced between the FBI staff walking alongside them and Zack. "Booth, you remember my assistant Zack Addy."

"Oh, yeah." he said as if it was a bad thing.

The anthropologist made a face yet, let the statement go and introduced Rachelle, "Zack, this is Booth's intern, Rachelle Cornwell."

Rachelle smiled invitingly. "Nice to meet you." she said, extending her hand to shake.

"You as well." He awkwardly shook her hand in return, speaking in a slightly bashful tone. Clearing his throat, he went back to talking to his mentor. "So did you discovery any interesting massacre victims in Guatemala, Dr. Brennan?" Booth scowled in disgust at that question while Rachelle's eyebrows shot up. However, Dr. Brennan didn't seem effected.

"We can discuss that later, Zack. Right now I'm going to need water samples and water temperatures." Dr. Brennan ordered.

"Right away, Dr. Brennan." With that, the anthropologist-in-training went off.

"Rach, stay behind. Help the FBI team if they need it or something." Booth ordered his underling.

_Or something?, _Rachelle furrowed her brows. "Wait a minute. You ask me to go to do field work with you, but I don't actually get to do work?"

"_Rachelle,_" he warned, glowering back at her.

Frowning, she rolled her eyes for the third time that day. Nevertheless, she said while saluting, "Yes, sir. As you order." Against her will, she walked away from Booth and Brennan as they head to the shoreline.

Rachelle had no idea what she was going to do while Booth and Brennan got to out on the pond in a boat to see where the body was. There was nothing interesting to do on land and there was no one to talk to. Everyone was a stranger to her and those she did know, only by their faces, ignored her because they only thought of her as a kid—like most people at the bureau.

Suddenly, it came to her.

_That Zack guy._

Maybe she could help Brennan's assistant or something. Yeah, he was a stranger, but he seemed nice enough. Besides, he didn't look much older than Rachelle so there was no reason for him to treat her like a child.

With that thought and a huge grin on her face, the FBI agent in training went off to find Zack. It didn't take long because surprisingly—despite how mousy he appeared—he stood out from a crowd. Rachelle approached him.

Once she was standing behind him, she followed her hands around her back. "Hola. Buenos dias." she greeted like she greeted everyone—even on the phone.

Jumping slightly, he whipped around startled to gaze up at her from his kneeling position. His brows furrowed in a confused expression. "No es mañana. Es la noche, Miss Cornwell." he said with a perfect Spanish accent.

She blinked. "All I got was my last name, man. And maybe no."

"If you don't speak Spanish then why did you greet me as such?" Zack questioned. "Then, again, you did say the wrong time of day." he added, mostly to himself.

"Uhhh…o-kay?" was the only thing Rachelle could think of saying. The female wasn't sure how to react to that. Then, again, what was the big deal? The guy was probably just fluent in Spanish and didn't know she was just playing around. "Let's try this again, shall we? _Hi_. How's it going?" She waved her hand.

"Oh. Um, hello." he said hesitantly. "It's going quite well, but that's expected since Dr. Brennan gave me simplistic work. Getting water samples and checking the temperature isn't that difficult."

"I see." Rachelle nodded; she couldn't disagree that what the older woman had assigned was an easy task. "Would you like some help? Despite its simplicity?"

Zack shrugged, thinking nothing against the suggestion. "Sure. I guess. You can just hand me the equipment, I suppose." he said, returning his attention to his work. "You can start by handing me the thermometer, please."

"Okidokie." she knelt beside him and searched his equipment case for the thermometer. Once she found it, she placed it in the brunet's extended blue gloved hand. "Here ya go, Mr. Addy."

He looked to her briefly. "…You can just call me Zack, Miss. Cornwell." he mumbled a bit embarrassed. He mentally scolded himself as there was no logical reason to be embarrassed for telling someone to call him by his name.

Nevertheless, he just grew more sheepish when the girl next to him smiled brightly and replied, "Okay then, Zack. Then you just call me Rachelle or Rach, whichever you prefer." Looking away and returning his focus on his work, like he knew he should be, Zack just nodded. He had work to do or Dr. Brennan wouldn't be happy.

Nonetheless, he couldn't control himself from saying, "Dr. Brennan said your Agent Booth's intern. Am I right to assume you want to become an FBI agent? Please, pass me a syringe and a vial." He had to add that. He could multi-task. Besides, Zack did not want to make eye-contact.

"Mmhm." was Rachelle's reply, complying with his request. "That probably seems strange to you." It was to most people. That's why she always received the "Are you sure?" question.

"Why exactly?" came the answer—more like question—that she had not anticipated.

She blinked surprised yet, regained her composure and calmly said while twisting her index in a single strand of her choppy locks. "Well, because people usually think it's strange for someone with my appearance and age to strive for such an occupation."

"…I know what you mean." Zack knew exactly how she felt. Despite his high intellect, not many took him seriously as a forensic anthropologist because of his youthful face and young age.

"You do?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"Though, I am curious as to why you would want to be an FBI agent." he admitted, his brown eyes squinting at the water that he had just poured into a vial. He asked for another vial, which Rachelle complied to.

"Well, why do you want to become a forensic anthropologist?" Rachelle responded, making him take aback. Zack had not predicted such an answer.

He answered nevertheless, "I'm exceptional at the job and it is--"

"The right way to help change the world, to you, right?" she finished for him. He nodded only briefly astounded by her statement. That was exactly what he was going to say. Rachelle grinned causing a fair amount of heat to rush to Zack's cheeks—she had a pleasant smile.

"I totally agree." she said happily. She was truly happy. That was the first time no one had ever not asked her "Are you sure?" Zack was actually a person who felt the same way—though with a different job. He was different.

_I think I'm going to like this guy.,_ Rachelle thought surely.

"Not to mention, its _waaay _more exciting than being a boring librarian." she said in an afterthought.

"You wanted to be a librarian?" Zack inquired with raised brows.

_That_ he definitely didn't expect. Sure, the young woman was petite and seemed fragile (nothing an FBI Agent was), but she didn't seem to fit the criteria of a librarian. Yet, he was just basing that from his past memories of his middle and high school librarians, who had been old, graying, and stern women. Rachelle was nothing like that. He wasn't especially good at reading people, but she seemed like the kind of person who was adventurous, kind, and outgoing. Not to mention, young, but that was a given.

"Originally, yeah. I loved reading, still do, but I hated the librarians at my schools. They were bitchy old crones, who tormented us kids. So I decided that I'd be the first nice librarian." She laughed, remembering the day she had decided that. "Naturally, there are nice ones out there. But I was only ten when I decided that and you know how kids are with their crazy imaginations."

"…Not really."

"Oh." Rachelle arched a brow. _He doesn't understand? …This guy is an "interesting" one._, she thought to herself, staring at the man next to her. She shrugged. "Well, whatever. It doesn't matter because I changed my mind when I was a sophomore in high school and decided to become an FBI Agent."

"That's obvious."

Rachelle chortled. "Well, duh."

"I don't know what that means."

Rachelle made a face. _Okay. Interesting doesn't even start to explain this guy. Is he from Planet Mars or something? _"I'm just agreeing with you that it's apparent." she elaborated.

"Why didn't you just say that?"

"…You don't socialize much, do you?"

Zack frowned. He had hoped she wouldn't notice that quickly. Then, again, Hodgins said it was obvious to anyone who spoke to him.

He reluctantly replied, quickly adverting his dark orbs to his task again, "…You wouldn't be wrong in your observation."

"I see. Well, I won't hold it against you. I'm not much of a social person either." she shrugged. Zack stared at her—another answer he had not predicted. "Anyway, I hope you the best of luck on being a forensic antrolopogist, Zack."

"Uh, and you on b-becoming an agent, Rachelle." he said, stuttering just a little. Her comment had not been one he received often.

Rachelle grinned making him hesitantly and nervous give a small one.

After that, Zack returned to his work unable to conjure anymore of his courage to chat with Rachelle further. She didn't mind as she did not seem to have anything else to say. And soon after that, Booth and Brennan appeared announcing that there was indeed a body at the bottom of the lake and the situation was without a doubt a crime scene.


	2. Chapter 2: The Victim

_Well, here's chapter two of my Zack/Bones story. I hope you are all enjoying it. A special thanks to _**ieatyounow**_ for being the first person to reviewing my story. Thanks so much! Anyway, like I said, this is following the show's main plot with my my own OC, a few other original characters, and some new storylines in it. Please review! Don't like, don't read. Flaming is inappropiate, but consturctive criticism is welcomed. ^-^_

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**Chapter Two: The Victim**

The following day, Rachelle found herself in Chairman Cullen's office sitting in a chair beside her mentor, Booth. Yesterday, Dr. Brennan and Zack had announced that the body found in the cemetery was indeed a victim of murder—along with that the victim was female, taller and younger than Rachelle and played tennis. A great and wonderful find. The only problem was that the victim was unidentified and also how she was killed and who had done it. And the only way the FBI was going to find that out was if Dr. Brennan was to work alongside Booth and Rachelle with full access to the case.

Thus, the reasoning as to why Booth and Rachelle were in their boss' office.

"I thought Dr. Brennan didn't want to work with you anymore, Agent Booth." Chairman Cullen, a gentle yet, stern balding man, pointed out from across his desk.

"That's because I didn't give her enough credence on our last case together." admitted Booth reluctantly. Unseen to the men, Rachelle rolled her hazel orbs thinking to herself, _Of course he didn't. He __**hates**__ squints._

"Why is that?" Cullen inquired with furrowed brows.

"Because she figured out how the victim was murdered and by what by just looking at the body." Booth replied. Rachelle's eyebrows rose. _Wow. And I thought her job yesterday was amazing. That's even more so._

Cullen made a scoff. "I wouldn't give her much credence either."

"She was right." Booth said. Cullen looked to the brunet man in astonishment. Booth nodded. "Exactly. She's amazing. And this time," He rose to his feet only briefly to hand Cullen the most recent crime file. "She gave me height, weight, age, gender, and the victim's favorite sport."

"Which is?" asked the older male taking the manila folder from the younger.

"Tennis."

"Wow."

"That's my point exactly. And that's why I'm requesting to take her out to the field with me. If I don't allow her that, she won't cooperate."

"I see. Well," Cullen sighed, seeming a bit reluctant, but convinced. "Your request is approved, but I hope you remember the consequences. Take a squint out to the field and they are your personal responsibility."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Booth nodded, standing. His blonde intern followed suit.

"And remember, _she's _your responsibility as well, Agent Booth." added Cullen, pointing to the youngest person in the office. Booth and Rachelle glanced back at him; Booth with a quizzical expression and Rachelle with a frown. "Make sure they stay out of trouble."

"Yes, sir. Will do." Booth nodded then, placed his hand on Rachelle's shoulder and guiding her out. They walked out and shut the door behind them.

"Must everyone treat me like I'm five-years-old?" Rachelle whined, throwing up her hands. Shaking his head at her rant, Booth grabbed her wrist and started to hurriedly exit the bureau. There was a case to solve.

**~*--*~**

Like every day at the Jeffersonian, everyone was working efficiently. Naturally, today, like yesterday, the forensics team was working on the most recent body they had obtained from the military cemetery. Angela Montenegro was in her image lab trying to get a better visual of the victim, and Jack Hodgins and Zack Addy were around the body giving it another look-over in case they needed to give Angela anything extra for her 3D scenario machine.

Finding a good time to bring it up as it was just him and another male, Zack nonchalantly, but proudly said, "I met a woman."

Lifting his curly head, Hodgins looked across at the younger man with furrowed brows. That had been awfully random, but then again, he knew by now all too well that Dr. Brennan's graduate student was a bit of an odd one.

"The body doesn't count, Zack." Hodgins pointed out.

"I meant one amongst the living." Zack claimed, not completely affected by the comment yet, he did feel slightly offended.

Hodgins blinked surprised. "Like a breathing, walking, talking woman?"

"I thought "living" was self-explanatory." was all Zack said a tad confused.

Ignoring that comment, Hodgins asked, "When did you meet her?"

"Yesterday, at the location where we discovered the body. She's Agent Booth's intern." answered Zack.

"Oooh, man. Bad choice. You definitely don't want that." Hodgins stated in disdain with a frown.

Zack arched a brow. "I don't understand."

"If she's an intern for the FBI that means she wants to be an FBI agent."

"Yes?"

"People like her, FBI Agents, and people like you, scientists, don't mesh well."

Zack made a face. "I still do not think I follow."

Groaning, Hodgins rolled his blue eyes. "Just trust me on this, dude. The FBI and us just doesn't work." he said, trying not to lose his patience.

"I see…" was all Zack said. However, in reality, he didn't really see; he did not entirely understand.

The young man had not met many FBI agents, but those he had met, like Booth, were "manly men", who were tough and strong and only acted on instincts. The kind of people that "squints" like him did not get along with nor understand. Nonetheless, Rachelle seemed nothing like that. Certainly, she seemed strong, but she had behaved nothing like Booth or the other FBI agents. Rachelle seemed different and not in a bad way. She was able to hold a conversation with Zack without treating him like he was strange and they actually understood each other—well, at least on the fact that they weren't treated like respectable adults.

Then again, Zack could be completely wrong about Rachelle. He was a genius, but he was terrible on reading people, especially girls.

Seeing his companion's frustration, Hodgins frowned. Zack had seemed quite proud of himself talking about this girl and Hodgins just kind of shut him down before asking any details. Hodgins didn't it mean it to be mean (sort of), he just wanted to warn the guy. The FBI and squints didn't mix well. Nevertheless, Zack did not understand that.

Sighing deeply, Hodgins reluctantly asked, "So what was this girl's name?"

Zack looked up at him puzzled, but responded to the inquiry nevertheless, "Rachelle Cornwell."

"She hot?"

"I don't think—"

Hodgins cut him off, knowing exactly what the brunet was going to say. "I meant, what does she look like, man?" he restated.

"Oh. Well, she's 160 centimeters, I'd say around 53. 07031 kilograms, symmetrical features minus her nose, which I'm going to guess she broke just before puberty, pale complexion, and—"

Hodgins once again cut him off holding up his hand when he saw over Zack's shoulder that Booth and a young woman had entered the lab. "Wait, wait. Does she have shoulder-length dirty blonde hair, hazel eyes, is really short, and looks like she's sixteen?"

Zack blinked. "Why yes. That's a fairly good description. Do you know her?"

"No. She's just behind you. Blondie and Booth just walked in." Hodgins pointed.

Arching a brow, Zack peered over his shoulder to see that Rachelle and Booth had indeed entered the lab. They were speaking with Angela. Zack and Hodgins quickly exchanged glances before jogging over to the three other people.

"Oh! Hey, Hodge, Zack." Angela smiled sweetly, a smile just as sweet as the olive-toned woman was. She then, turned back to Rachelle and Booth. "And this is Dr. Jack Hodgins, he's our bug and dirt guy, and Zack Addy, Dr. Brennan's assistant. Guys, this is Booth's intern, Rachelle Cornwell."

The blonde girl nodded with a smile. "Zack and I have already met. Nice to see you again, Zack." she said to him.

"You as well, Rachelle." he softly said with a small smile. Angela and Hodgins looked at him oddly.

Apparentally, Rachelle hadn't heard his tone because she turned to Hodgins. "And it's nice to meet you, Dr. Hodgins."

"You too, Blondie." Hodgins gave a nod.

"Yeah, yeah. Everyone is happy to meet each other." Booth said hurriedly. "Where's Bones?"

"Dr. Brennan returned home for the day." Zack answered.

"She was up all last night reconstructing the skull." added Angela.

Booth didn't look happy. "Well, call her. This is urgent. I got confirmation from the Chairman to allow Bones to work with me." he explained. Only Booth was pleased with that and Booth noticed that. He deadpanned, "Just someone call her, please."

"I'll do it. We can do it in my office; we're going to have to go in there anyway." Angela announced, sending an especially sweet grin at him. Just nodding, Booth followed. Hodgins, Rachelle, and Zack followed him, all filing into Angela's office.

Once everyone stood in Angela's office, Angela called up Dr. Brennan. Booth and Rachelle looked at all of Angela's artwork that she had hung up. Zack and Hodgins just stood around.

When Angela finished talking to Dr. Brennan and notifying her of everything, the room grew silent. Booth made no incentive to talk to the squints and the squints made no incentive to speak with Booth. Thus, the FBI spoke with each other, talking quietly about Angela's art while the squints talked to each other.

"So Rachelle said you two have met before. Is that true, Zack?" whispered Angela teasingly as the three stood around her desk.

"Yes. We met yesterday at the cemetery." he nodded.

"Oh. Such a bad beginning for love." pouted Angela.

"Love?" Zack blinked.

Hodgins sighed, shaking his head. "She's an FBI agent, Ange." he told her.

"So?" she asked. "And she's an intern."

He groaned, rolling his eyes. Zack calmly replied, "According to Hodgins, FBI and forensic anthropologists don't collaborate well."

"_Hodgins_," Angela scolded. Hodgins just shrugged innocently. Shaking her head, making her dark hair sway about her pretty face, Angela turned to the other male with a smile. "Well, I think she's adorable, Zack. And she seems to like you."

"I don't understand." he said. Angela and Hodgins sighed—same old Zack.

Suddenly, footsteps sounded in the room followed by Dr. Brennan's voice, "Does Booth and Rachelle understand how this works?"

"Nope. I was waiting for you." Angela responded, getting up from her desk. "Everyone followed me into the other room." Everyone did so.

They entered a darkened and large room where a rectangular table was placed in the middle of it. Above was another rectangular object. In the corner of the room was the victim's skull, now clean of flesh and had pins in it. On the far left was an entryway to another room full of skeletons in shelves.

"Okidokie. This is a 3D program that I designed, patent and pending." Angela smiled proudly with a clipboard type thing in her arms. "After Brennan reconstructed the skull and placed the facial markers on and after the others gave me her height, weight, and such, I began visualizing how the victim would look. Thus, after a bit of this and that, I came up with _this._" After pressing a few buttons on her pad, images started to materialize on the platform in the middle of the room.

Soon enough, a young African-American woman appeared before everyone. Booth and Rachelle softly gasped in astonishment. Both reached out to touch the 3D image. However, Brennan gently took both their hands away with a pensive expression on her face.

"Angela, can you change the image so that the victim has Caucasian features?" she queried.

"Sure." With that, Angela did this and that on her keypad and suddenly, the girl was Caucasian.

Brennan brows furrowed. "Does anyone recognize her?" Everyone shook their heads. Brennan bit her lip before saying, "Ange, change it to half and half. Mixed race."

"Lenny Kravitz or Vanessa Williams." her best friend said.

"I don't know what that means." Brennan said.

Shrugging, Angela pushed some more buttons and the image quickly became a woman with mixed racial features. "Now, does anyone recognize her?" Brennan asked again, peering around at the five other people.

"Not me." Zack admitted.

"Wait," Angela squinted her eyes from her seat on a stool. "Is that who I think it is?"

"The intern who had the affair with the Senator?" Zack questioned aloud.

"You don't mean…" Rachelle gasped. She turned to Booth with wide eyes. "That can't be…"

"It is, Rachelle." Booth sighed deeply. The squirts peered to them curiously. "That's Chloe Louise Eller. An intern to Senator Bethlehem. Was last seen in 2003 leaving a gym."

"You have a good memory." pointed out Brennan.

"Yeah, well, it's my job to find her." he claimed. Rachelle frowned. Everyone else exchanged looks.

**~*--*~**

"I cannot believe this." grumbled Booth, massaging his temple. Everyone watched him—Rachelle with a look of concern and everyone else with calm expressions—as the group was gathered outside on the steps of the Jeffersonian to enjoy lunch.

"I'm not an expert or anything, but shouldn't he be happier?" pointed out Zack before spooning Mac N' Cheese into his mouth.

"Oh, I am happy." Booth said with deep sarcasm. "This was just not the way I wanted it to end."

"It's not the way anyone would want it to end, Seeley, but at least we found her." Rachelle attempted in reassuring.

Shaking his head, her mentor gazed up at Brennan as she was higher on the steps than he was. "How did you know who she was with barely looking at her?" he asked.

"I recognized her facial features from the news. All I had to do was fill in the rest of the blanks." the auburn-haired woman answered logically. Booth stared at her, not sure whether to believe her or not.

Then, Angela asked the question that was on everyone's minds, "So do you think the Senator killed her?"

"It's a possibility." said Rachelle, brushing her long bangs away from her face and tucking them behind her multi-pierced ear. "Senator Bethlehem and Miss. Eller were having an affair."

"No it is not." Booth interjected. "I was secondary on that case and we couldn't confirm that."

"Puh-leez. You don't think Bethlehem would use his political standing to cover such a thing up and not succeed?" Hodgins countered. He took a bite of his sandwich.

Scoffing, Booth turned away and descended the stairs leaving. "Paranoid conspiracy!" he shouted with a wave of his hand. "Move it, kid! We're heading out!"

"A please would be nice!" she exclaimed. Nevertheless, the blonde sprang from her seat between Zack and Angela and ran after Booth.

Scowling, Brennan chased them shouting, "Hey! Wait a minute! What about me?!"

"What about you?" Booth dully asked once Brennan caught up with him and Rachelle.

"Well, I thought I had full access to the case. Meaning field work and such." she said as they walked speedily through the gardens.

"An unfortunate change of plans." he said.

"What?" Brennan took aback, ceasing in her walking. She growled. "Ugh! You rat bastard!" Rachelle couldn't help but agree silently with Dr. Brennan for calling Booth that. It seemed unfair.

"I'm sorry, Bones, but the situation has changed." was all Booth, who kept walking, said.

"Don't call me Bones! And how has the situation changed so much that I can't help?" she cried.

"Just trust me it has. This kind of scenario calls for FBI being out in the field and you squints in the lab." Booth said dismissively, hoping Brennan would drop it.

Unfortunately, she did not.

"Fine! Then, I'll have the Jeffersonian televise an announcement of Miss. Eller's death!" she yelled at him.

Immediately, Booth stopped causing his intern to accidentally bump into him. Booth glared at Rachelle then, glared back at Brennan, who stood her ground. "You can't do that. I'd be in deep trouble if you did that." he retorted. "Even Rach would be in trouble for that." Rachelle stiffened at that—she didn't want to be fired before she eve became an agent.

"Then, let me work with you two." Brennan demanded.

Narrowing his eyes, Booth walked back to her. "What are you trying to do?"

"Blackmail you." she instantly responded.

"Blackmail a federal agent?"

"Yes."

"…I don't like it."

"I'm fairly sure you're not supposed to."

Rachelle chortled. "I like her. We should let her come, Seels." she stated, causing the other two to turn to her. Booth gave her a warning look while Brennan smirked in gratitude. Rachelle ignored her mentor's glare and smirked right back at Brennan.

The women turned back to Booth, who was making a face. Eventually, he sighed in frustration. "Fine," he gave in. "You can come along."

Brennan and Rachelle beamed. Booth rolled his eyes and went on walking. The females quickly followed.


	3. Chapter 3: Heart vs Brain

_Hey, everyone. Well, here's chapter three. I know I only have one review, but I'm hoping to get more if I keep posting my story. So please, please review! It will be much appreciated. Like I mentioned before, this will be following that main storyline. All I own is my main OC, some other original characters, and some original plot points. Anyway, please enjoy and review. Thanks._

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**Chapter Three: Heart vs. Brain**

"I'm not comfortable with this, Seeley." admitted Rachelle from the back seat of Booth's SUV. The three of them were driving through D.C. towards the Eller Household—a house Booth and Rachelle had been to on numerous occasions, but not one like this.

"Don't call me Seeley, Rach." Booth began, his voice have very little to no bite this time. "I understand you don't like this, but we have to. Chloe's folks have a right to know."

"I'm not saying they don't, I just don't like being there when we break the news to them that their missing daughter of two years was been brutally murdered." Rachelle pointed out.

"You wanted to go out in the field, kid. Stuff like this comes up." he told her from the driver's seat.

"I understand that," she quipped dully. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it."

"I don't think you're supposed to like people being murdered, Rachelle." Brennan spoke up. Booth and Rachelle both looked at her oddly. The anthropologist arched a brow. "What?" she asked innocently.

No one said anything for the rest of the drive until they reached the Eller home, which was as welcoming as the two people inside. The Ellers were a kindly middle-aged couple; the husband being African American and very stern looking yet, caring and the wife being Caucasian with a motherly face and smile.

Mrs. Eller instantly hugged Booth and Rachelle upon arrival and smiled widely at Brennan. Mr. Eller shook Booth's hand, hugged Rachelle, and greeted Brennan politely. Then, Mrs. Eller offered snacks. Booth declined for the three of them as he reluctantly told them that they would be needing to sit down. Exchanging worried glances, the Ellers did so in the living room. Rachelle, Booth, and Brennan sat across from them.

Then, the truth came out. Soon enough, pain filled Mr. Eller's eyes and tears cascaded from Mrs. Eller's. Silence filled the room for a while.

Mrs. Eller sniffled and spoke, "Just tell us one thing…did she suffer?"

"According to her skull--" Brennan began, but Booth quickly cut her off.

"Chloe never saw it coming." he said gently while shooting a look at Brennan, who didn't catch it.

Chloe's parents winced, causing constriction in Rachelle and Booth's chests.

Brennan cleared her throat. "Mrs. and Mr. Eller can you please tell us what Chloe wore around her neck?" she asked in a business-like tone. It seemed that the woman was always business-oriented. Rachelle could appreciate that as she played by the book, too, but it seemed that Brennan lived her life like that.

"She wore her father's Gold Star. He earned it in the Gulf War." Mrs. Eller sobbed. "He gave it to her for good luck." With that, she broke down again. Frowning, holding back his own tears, her husband wrapped his arms around her.

Mr. Eller gazed to Booth. "Agent Booth, from one military man to another, did that bastard Bethlehem do this to her?"

"From the victim's body, we cannot--" Booth once again cut Brennan off with another look.

"We can't confirm that." he told the other military man.

"I see." Mr. Eller said.

After that, no one said anything and Booth, Brennan, and Rachelle decided that it was a good time to leave.

As the three exited the house onto the street, Rachelle released the breath she had been holding in. _Well, that was more uncomfortable than I wanted it to be.,_ she thought. Then, she adverted her light eyes—them being a soft green hue at the moment—back at the house. She frowned. _I hope we find out what happened to Chloe soon…_

"Rach, c'mon!" Booth called to her. "Or I'm leaving you behind."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm coming." She jogged up to Brennan and Booth who were heading to the car.

"What exactly did you do in the military?" Brenna suddenly asked Booth.

Rachelle peered to her role model as he scowled at the older woman. "Y'know what, Bones? That's your problem. You say and ask things without giving a piece of yourself first. And since I'm not a pile of bones, you're getting nothing from me." Booth retorted before getting into the driver's seat of the SUV.

A bit taken aback, Brennan arched her eyebrows. She glanced over at Rachelle who was shaking her head at Booth. Noticing Dr. Brennan's stare, Rachelle gave her a reassuring smile and shrugged. With that, the two women slid into the car.

**~*--*~**

After a long and tense-filled drive, Booth, Brennan, and Rachelle returned to the Jeffersonian because Hodgins had called Brennan stating that the squints back at the lab had discovered how Chloe had died. Everyone gathered in Angela's office again to witness the 3D reenactment of the murder.

Chloe's image appeared once again the monitor, along with another figure to symbolize the murderer. Soon, they were struggling against one another. Then, the figure stabbed Chloe three to four times, one time passing her ribs—that stab, Brennan announced, had to be the fatal blow. Afterwards, the images showed the killing slicing Chloe's finger pads.

"Whoever killed Miss. Eller got rid of her finger pads to rid her fingerprints, so no one could identify her by them." Dr. Brennan stated.

"And bashed her face in with a hammer, so no one would recognize her." Angela added.

"This was clearly not a crime of passion. The person who murdered Chloe put more thought into disposing of her identity than into the murder itself." Brennan said.

"And if someone did identify her and figured it out it was foul play, the murderer placed various items to mislead them. First, was the Saint book to point the blame at the stalker," Angela stated.

"And if that didn't fool anyone, the murderer stole Miss. Eller's Gold Star and dumped the body in the military cemetery pointing to her own father." Zack explained.

Hodgins gazed across at Rachelle and Booth. "Should like any conniving sonovabitch Senator you know?" he said in scorn.

Booth glowered. "So let me get this straight. You want Rachelle and me to announce war against a U.S. Senator just because of stupid crystal ball?"

"Seeley," Rachelle began in warning. She had a feeling of where this was going to go.

"It's not a crystal ball, Booth. This is a digital rendering based on factual evidence." Brennan rejoined logically.

"_No._" Booth shook his head. "You have a _dead girl_ and a _U.S. Senator_."

"Factual evidence helps us form a hypothesis in order to create this. That makes it a good and solid hypothesis." Zack argued.

"It's no better than my gut instinct. This is exactly why squints _stay in the lab_." Booth spat.

"_Seeley,_" Rachelle tried again before the man went too far.

Booth didn't hear her though as he went of angrily, "You guys have no idea about the real world at all." Rachelle inwardly groaned as she saw the squints' insulted expressions. _Way to go, Seeley. Way. To. Go._

"Let's go, guys. We're done here." Brennan said coolly before turning on her heel and walking out of the office. Zack and Hodgins followed her.

Shaking her head, Rachelle started after them. However, Booth called her back, "You too, Rach?"

Stopping, the blonde glanced over her slender shoulder at him. "I respect you, Seels, but that was completely uncalled for. Not cool, man." She walked off to find Brennan, Zack, and Hodgins. Angela remained behind with Booth; it was her office after all.

Unfortunately, Brennan was nowhere to be found when Rachelle entered the main laboratory. Nevertheless, Hodgins and Zack were on the lower floor's platform on separate computers. She'd just have to apologize for Booth to them first.

She approached them and she immediately felt anger emitting from Hodgins—not so much from Zack, who always seemed calm. They looked to her when the twenty-two-year-old cleared her throat. "Look, guys, I may be Seeley's intern, but I did not agree with him back there. He had no right to says those things about you. And I'm sorry." she said.

Hodgins scoffed, rising from his computers. "I don't believe you."

Rachelle took aback. "I beg your pardon?"

"You may just be an intern and act young and sweet, but you're still part of the FBI. All of you government people are the same way. You feel the exactly the same way Booth does, so don't lie, Blondie." he retorted.

"What? No! I don't--!" Rachelle started defensively. She did not appreciate his accusation at all. She was just trying to be nice and honest.

The bearded young man continued to not believe her. Scoffing again, Hodgins just icily walked past her. Making an exasperated face, Rachelle watched him go. _That stupid, stubborn jackass!,_ she thought, gritting her teeth. "Well, _excuse me_ for being sincere!" Rachelle shouted after Hodgins. She huffed. "Jerk…"

"Were you being sincere?" asked Zack.

"Huh?" the blonde whipped her head to him. "What did you say?"

"Were you being sincere?" he repeated, staring at the young woman before him.

"…Yes, I was." Rachelle nodded. "I may be part of the FBI and I usually work by the book, but I don't agree with Seeley's views on squints. I don't even understand where that originated. Everyone at the FBI seems to think that way about you all. You all seem like good people to me. Yeah, you base your lives and cases completely on logic, but that's not an entirely a bad thing. I'm sorry for Booth making it seem that way. What he said was disrespectful and I hope you don't think ill of him or me." she declared boldly.

Rachelle didn't like many people yet, those people, those squints, she did like. She did count the fact that she had just met them all, but there was just something about the team from the Jeffersonian that was just so fascinating. Rachelle wanted to get to know them better and there was no way of that happening if they hated her from the get go—Hodgins already seemed like a lost cause.

"No, I do not. I don't think ill of you." Zack admitted.

In all honesty, he really didn't. He did not think he could. Certainly, she was part of the FBI and so far they didn't seem like that great of people. However, to the brunet, it seemed irrational to think badly of someone just because of their occupation. Besides, despite the fact that Zack could not read people in order to tell if they're lying or not, he felt that Rachel was being truthful.

"You don't?" Rachelle asked hopeful.

"No." he shook his head.

A soft smile tugged at her cherry lips. "Thank you, Zack. I really appreciate it." she said grateful.

His cheeks burned a little at her smile finding it just as pleasant as it was yesterday. Zack adverted his brown eyes from hers finding the blank computer screen suddenly very interesting. "I don't know why you're thanking me. I was just stating a fact." he muttered.

"Y'know, most people just say "you're welcome" after someone thanks them." Rachelle pointed out with a laugh.

"…You're welcome." said Zack.

Rachelle grinned. Zack returned it with a very weak and flustered one.

**~*--*~**

Tension filled the SUV as Booth drove himself and Rachelle back to the bureau. That and complete silence, minus the soft purring of the vehicle's engine. Typically, Booth would welcome any kind of quiet when Rachelle was around. However, now wasn't one of those moments.

"How long are you planning to ignore me?" Booth asked after a deep, frustrated sigh.

Rachelle did not respond as she stared at the window. Her feet were propped up on the dash and her arms were crossed over her chest. Booth grimaced. This was going to be a lot harder than he thought.

Then, it came to him. He smirked. Or maybe it wasn't going to be so hard.

"You're acting like a complete child, Rach." he said, trying not to sound cocky.

"I am not acting like a child!" snapped Rachelle whipping on him.

He smirked widely in triumphant. "Ha. Got ya talking." he teased.

Huffing, the blonde pouted. "Not cool." She looked away again.

Silence fell once more making Booth frown. This was going nowhere.

"Why are you so mad?" he questioned in exasperation.

"You had no right to talk to them like that, Seeley." she rebuked.

"Who?"

"You know who."

"The squints?"

"Yes. They're people, too, you know."

"I know that." Booth said, rolling his eyes.

"Well, you certainly didn't act like you did back there. They were really upset with what you said." Rachelle pointed out.

"Oh, c'mon. No they weren't."

"Yes, they were. Wouldn't you be if you were told that you were a freak and didn't belong in the real world with normal people?"

"I did not say that, Rachelle."

"You might as well have."

"…"

"_Exactly._" the intern said firmly.

"Rachelle," Booth began, keeping his dark eyes on the road. "You have to understand. I know they're real people, but they know nothing of the real world. Yes, Chloe is dead and that's tragic. But, we can't just randomly say that Senator Bethlehem murdered her and arrest him. He's a politician, which brings up a lot of issues. There are rules and we have to follow them as federal agents."

"I don't like it." she muttered softly.

"Sometimes you won't. But you wanted to became an FBI Agent to protect the country and that's includes Bethlehem." Booth told her.

"_No,_" said Rachelle defiantly. She glanced to the handsome young man with a determined expression. "I want to become an FBI Agent to protect those who are weak and can speak for themselves. I want to be their strength and be their voice. I want to fight those who are bad and hurt the innocent. Chloe is one of those people who is weak and has no voice. She may be dead, but doesn't she have the right to protected, too?"

"…Rachelle,"

"And I know you became an FBI Agent for the same reasons."

"…" _Not exactly.,_ he thought. _But pretty damn close..._

"We can't do it alone, Seeley. We are the heart and the squints are the brain. The heart and the brain cannot function without one another. We need the squints and they need us. That is the only way we can give Chloe her voice back."

For a while, Booth said nothing. His eyes would look at the road then, to the girl staring at him. Ultimately, he gave a bitter laugh. "Y'know, I'm supposed to be teaching you, kid. Not the other way around." he joked.

Rachelle couldn't help but smiling understanding that she had gotten through to him. She sat back in her seat properly. "And the world is a better place."

Booth rolled his eyes yet, smiled himself. She was back to her normal, witty self.

Now, for the real problem at hand. Figuring out who killed Chloe Eller. That task was going to be far harder than dealing with a stubborn girl.


	4. Chapter 4: Chloe's Voice, Chloe's Killer

_Okidokie! So here's chpater four! Sorry for the long wait. I had a lot of homework. Thus, I made this chpater extra long; 14 pages on Microsoft Office. I'd like to thank those who reviewed the past chapters. They were so supportive and I am sooooooo gratiful. ^-^ Thank you so muc! I hope the good reviews continue! Anyway, here's chpater four. Please, enjoy and review._

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**Chapter Four: Chloe's Voice, Chloe's Killer**

"_What_ was going through that woman's mind?" fumed Booth as he speedily drove through D.C. in the SUV.

"Probably that she wanted to figure out who Chloe's murderer was." replied Rachelle calmly even though her hands were clenching the dash and her seat. Her mentor was driving way too fast. She didn't mind speeding sometimes, as she did it herself, but she knew that was no time to be enjoying herself. Booth was furious and the drive was no rollercoaster.

"By stealing gum and assaulting a politician?!" he exclaimed, a vein throbbing near his hairline.

Rachelle made a face. She wasn't normally afraid of the ex-sniper yet, she was now. However, she was more afraid for Dr. Brennan—and maybe their jobs. "It c-could be worse?" was all the fair-haired woman could think of saying.

Obviously, that did not comfort the man as he turned to glare daggers at his student. Biting her bottom lip, Rachelle fell silent. Maybe it was best to keep her mouth shut for once. No need to aggravate the man further.

It wasn't before long that Booth and Rachelle reached their destination. And if they had any doubts of the location, the FBI surrounding the front of the white building with two agents restraining Dr. Brennan made those feeling go away. Bethlehem and his assistant, Ken were standing on the front steps as well with smirks on their faces.

Booth and Rachelle exchanged anxious expression before springing from the car and bolting up the steps to save their companion. Brennan glared at those restraining her and at the politicians. However, when her blue eyes spotted Booth and Rachelle, some relief reflected in them.

"All right, guys. We got it from here. Agent Booth. Bones is my responsibility. Let her go." Booth announced to the men holding Brennan.

"Yes, sir." The men released her.

"Thank you, Booth, Rachelle." Brennan said to them.

"Save the thanks. We have to do go back to the bureau _immediately_. The Chairman is pissed." Booth told her as he grabbed Brennan's elbow and dragged her to the car.

Rachelle scoffed, followed. "Pissed is an understatement."

"Rachelle, _not now_." Booth advised irritably. Making a face, Rachelle obeyed.

Brennan was still confused as Booth tugged her along. "I don't understand. Why is your boss angry?" she asked. Booth made her get into the car, which she glared at him for yet, she slid in anyway.

"You'll find out soon, Dr. Brennan. Let's just leave it at that." Rachelle said with a sigh as she got into the back.

"Um…all right." Brennan said with a shrug. Booth got into the driver's seat, started the engine, and then, the SUV took off towards the bureau.

**~*--*~**

Quietly, Booth, Brennan, and Rachelle sat in Chairman Cullen's office as they listened to him yell at them for what Brennan had done nearly an hour ago. Brennan looked deeply confused and a tad nervous, Booth tried maintaining a calm expression, but his brown eyes clearly mirrored that he was aggravated, and Rachelle's face was distorted in anxiety—she felt like she was back in school again being scolded by a teacher.

"I warned you about bringing a squint out in the field, Booth," Cullen hissed infuriated, pointing at Booth. "But _no_, you vouched for her! She was your responsibility! She assaulted a politician! You're lucky Bethlehem and Ken aren't pressing charges!"

No one said anything.

Cullen continued his rant, "As of tomorrow morning, you're off the case. _Both of you_." He looked at Rachelle, who frowned—what made him think a lowly intern like herself would continue working on the case without a professional agent like Booth? "I'm sending a special ops group in to finish up the case." The Chairman said then, motioned with his hand as if beckoning someone. "Agent Finnegan will be in charge of the group."

As if he had already sensed Agent Finnegan's presence, Booth said icily, "Congrats, Patrick."

"Thank you, Booth. I hope there are no hard feelings." Patrick smirked widely.

"No, of course not. Right, Rachelle?"

"…Yeah. Sure. Whatever." she replied dully, not even making eye-contact with the cocky balding man behind her.

"I'll be needing those files." Patrick said.

"Certainly. You'll have them on your desk by tomorrow." replied Booth.

"Thank you, Agent Finnegan." Cullen dismissed the agent, seeming calmer at that point.

Finally, Brennan spoke, sounding desperate and guilty, "Wait. Don't punish Rachelle and Booth because of I what I did. It's my fault, not theirs."

Booth and Rachelle looked to the anthropologist, surprised and appreciatively. On the other hand, Cullen was still angry. "Dr. Brennan, you should just get used to your lab because that's where you are going to stay."

She looked taken aback yet, couldn't rebuke as Cullen dismissed her, Rachelle, and Booth. Reluctantly, the three started to get up, but not before Booth muttered under his breath, "At least Dr. Brennan found out that Senator Bethlehem was sleeping with Miss. Chloe." Despite that it was muttered, Booth made sure that it was loud enough for everyone to hear.

"But I haven't confirmed that yet. We don't know if Bethlehem was the unborn child's father." Brennan pointed out puzzled.

"Oh, please. Bethlehem is a hound. Everyone knows that." Cullen scoffed, leaning back in his chair. He turned to Booth. "I just don't see what that has to do with anything."

"Bethlehem did not want Dr. Brennan to take that gum. He's hiding something and Ken knows about it. That's all I'm saying. Dr. Brennan was doing her job." Booth shrugged.

"I'm gonna have to second that." piped up Rachelle.

It was Brennan's turn to look surprised and grateful.

Cullen made a face. "Out." he ordered. The three obeyed.

When Booth closed the door behind himself and the women, Brennan turned to those in the FBI beside her. "Thank you, but you two shouldn't have defended me when I got you into trouble." she said.

"Eh. Don't worry about. You would've done it for us." Rachelle shrugged carelessly, her hands tucked in her jeans' pockets.

"Agreed," Booth gave a curt nod, rubbing the back of his neck. "Besides, your heart was in the right place." He ushered the females to move onward.

"No, I'm not the heart person." Brennan shook her head, still disgruntled by the conversation inside Cullen's office. "You and Rachelle are. I'm a brains and bones person."

"Those things need each other though." pointed out Rachelle. Brennan turned to her with a raised brow, the blonde female just smiled.

"Right," Booth said. "Now, Rachelle and I officially have twenty-four hours until we're off this case and I'm not about ready to give up just yet."

His intern added with a raise of her lime green nail-painted index, "Ditto."

"I concur," agreed the older female. "Do you think it was Bethlehem?" Brennan asked.

The only male of the three shook his head. "No. Most likely not. He's had sex with a bunch of interns, but he's never whacked them. What would make Chloe different? My bet right now is on the stalker." he stated logically.

"Well, we have time. So how about we roost the stalker?" Brennan suggested.

Booth and Rachelle gave her odd looks. "_Roust_. The word is _rousting_."

"Oh." was all she said.

"Either way, Rach and I have until tomorrow morning, so we better get moving." Booth announced, which Brennan and Rachelle agreed with.

With that, the three headed out of the bureau in hopes of getting closer to whoever killed Chloe.

**~*--*~**

"I understand trying to catch the bad guy before he gets away and all. Total comic book-bad guy vs. good guy-scenario, but isn't breaking into someone's home _illegal_?" Rachelle asked Brennan as the blonde walked beside the brunette towards the house before them, which belonged to Oliver Laurier. Booth was going around back.

"I didn't understand the majority of your statement, but yes, breaking in is illegal. However, sometimes doing what is illegal is necessary." Brennan explained logically. "Besides, you're FBI, Booth has jurisdiction."

"Oh, I see. So it's like the saying: "It's not illegal unless ya get caught"." Rachelle said. She smirked. "I can live with that. I can definitely live with that."

Brennan glanced down at the younger female with a quizzical expression. "I'm not sure what you mean."

Rachelle chortled, still smirking. "It's probably better that you don't." she said. Brennan just stared at her. Rachelle sighed deeply. "Never mind. Let's just focus on the task at hand."

Brennan just nodded and she and Rachelle approached Olivier's door. They knocked and patiently waited. Shortly, the door opened, but only a little as a chain was preventing further movement. Behind the door was a mousy-looking man with dark hair and dark eyes.

He blinked and stammered out, "Y-Yes?"

"Mr. Laurier, we're here on behalf of Miss. Chloe Eller." Brennan explained politely.

Suddenly, a panicked expression crossed Oliver's face and he slammed the door in the women's faces. Both blinked in surprise. However, they both jumped startled when they heard a yelp followed a cry of pain then, a loud 'THUD'. Rachelle and Brennan exchanged glances thinking the same exact thing: _Booth_.

The door opened to reveal the agent himself. He allowed the women to walk in. Rachelle immediately arched a brow when she saw Oliver on the floor, whimpering in pain. "What did you do? Kick him in the crotch?" she asked.

Brennan and Booth looked at her oddly. "_No_," Booth shook his head. "Why would I do a thing like that? I just twisted his wrist."

"I'd kick him in the crotch." his intern admitted freely, watching the "stalker" whither on the floor cradling his wrist.

"Of course you would. You fight dirty, kid." Booth said. The blonde girl just shrugged. He deadpanned. "That's not a good thing." he pointed out. Rachelle shrugged again.

"Rachelle does make an interesting point. That move is quite effective in most cases." Brennan stated causing Rachelle to smirk and Booth to look at her strangely.

He shook his head with a sigh. "Can we just interrogate the guy?" he asked in exasperation. The women nodded.

Eventually, Oliver recovered and thus, began the interrogation concerning Chloe. Brennan stood and talked to Oliver while Rachelle and Booth searched for evidence in the man's house. So far, Rachelle had a good feeling that Oliver wasn't the murderer yet, that was mostly because he acted like a total coward. Then again, the quiet ones were usually the crazy ones.

"Why would I hurt Chloe? I loved her. We were great friends." Oliver muttered softly.

"Then, what's with the restraining order, man? Seems a bit weird for such close companions." Rachelle stated.

Oliver frowned. "Chloe didn't ask for that. That controlling politician boyfriend, Ken made it. He was jealous of how close Chloe and I were even though all he cared about was politics and his stupid prize-winning fish."

"So why did you run?" Brennan inquired.

"When it comes to "flight or fight", my instincts usually lean more to flight." Oliver confessed.

"So he's a pussy." Rachelle said under her breath, but Booth heard her—since he was standing right beside her—and shot her a scolding look.

Shaking his head, Booth's brown eyes landed on a bunch of tiny books in a box on the living room's mantel. His brows furrowed and picked one up. "Hey, Laurier. What are these?" he called to the other male in the room.

"Biographies on all of the Saints." Oliver answered, peering over his shoulder. "I hand those out every now and there when I'm not working."

"I see." Booth just nodded, sounding uninterested. "Can we take one of these?"

"Absolutely. I'm not a panhandler. Please, help yourself." replied Oliver.

"Great. Here," Booth shoved the book into Rachelle's hands. Being caught off guard, she fumbled with it before holding the tiny red book securely; she glowered at her mentor.

"Thank you, Mr. Laurier." Brennan said.

"Of course. I'd do anything for Chloe. If you need any help, please tell me," Oliver suddenly smiled at her. "_Dr. Brennan_." At his tone, Brennan arched a brow and Booth and Rachelle looked at each other.

**~*--*~**

For a while, no one spoke as Booth drove himself, Brennan, and Rachelle back to the Jeffersonian to drop Brennan off. Despite how much they didn't want to, they all needed to take a break. There was nothing they could do at the moment—a stand-still. That being, everyone was lost in their own thoughts.

However, Brennan's cell phone breaking the silence. She answered saying it was Hodgins. They spoke for a few minutes and Booth and Rachelle waited in anticipation—they were hopeful that he had found something that could help.

Ultimately, Brennan hung up. Instantly, Rachelle asked excitedly, "So? What did Curly say?"

"Curly?" Brennan's questioned.

"Hodgins." Booth answered for the blonde. "What did he say?"

"He found the exact type of sledge hammer that struck Chloe and the type of dirt in her hair." Brennan paused for a moment and checked her phone. "He gave me the company the hammer was bought at and said that the dirt was diatomaceous earth."

"What's that?" the FBI members queried in unison.

"It's very common actually. Found in fish tanks, cement, and etc." Brennan responded.

"Well, no matter how common it is, it's still a clue." Booth commented.

"Better than nothing." Rachelle added, leaning back against her seat in the back. "The only problem is, how is it going to help us?"

"We just have to rely on the bones. Bones never lie." Brennan claimed. Booth exchanged looks with Rachelle through the rearview mirror. She just shrugged—she believed Brennan knew what she was talking about.

**~*--*~**

Rachelle was not Booth's best friend or anything nor was he hers, but she did have a lot of respect for the man. As well, they didn't hate each other—their relationship was peculiar. Thus, when Booth was sad, angry, and so on, Rachelle could tell immediately.

Standing in the doorway of the office in the bureau, Rachelle could see the pain and somberness in his eyes. It wasn't entirely clear on his face, but his eyes were always easy to read. The cause of his sadness was the videos of Chloe's graduation that Mr. and Mrs. Eller had given them a copy of.

"They look so happy." Booth said solemnly.

Rachelle wasn't surprised that he knew she was there; he was good at sensing those kinds of thing. With her arms crossed over chest, she stepped further into the room."I presume most parents are happy when their kids graduate." she stated.

"You _presume_?" he peered to her raising a brow. "Weren't your parents happy when you graduated?"

She stared at him emotionlessly. Even she wasn't showing emotion on her face, her hazel eyes mirrored all he needed to know—or remember, in that case. Booth made a face. "That's right. I forgot. I'm sorry." he muttered, returning his attention to the video on the small TV.

"Its chill." the fair-haired girl shrugged. Her voice was unnaturally soft—well, unnatural for someone like Rachelle. "Besides, Justin and Michelle were there. They were happy."

"Good to know." he smiled, but only a little.

"Yeah…"

Silence fell yet, only briefly as a knock echoed in the room. Booth and Rachelle turned to see Brennan standing there. She entered. Rachelle instinctively greeted her, "Hello, Dr. Brennan." Brennan returned the salutation.

"Find anything, Bones?" asked Booth getting straight to the point.

"Yes. We found the location of the hammer and the diatomaceous earth." Brennan announced with a curt nod.

"And?"

"Senator Bethlehem's basement."

Booth said nothing for a while. Brennan peered to Rachelle curiously, but Rachelle was looking at Booth. "What do you want to do, Seeley?" asked Rachelle.

He sighed. "I have no choice it seems. He's a senator, but this is a murder. I want to help Chloe get her voice back." Rachelle grinned.

"Excuse me?" asked Brennan, not understanding.

Booth gazed to her. "You just better be right, Bones."

All Brennan could do was nod, a determined look on her lovely face.

**~*--*~**

It wasn't going well.

Rachelle and Brennan had that feeling. No one looked happy even if they had found the sledge hammer that had been used on Chloe. Bethlehem was yelling that the entire thing was ridiculous, his wife was trying to calm him down, Ken looked pissed yet, somewhat cocky, and Chairman Cullen was peeved and was scolding Booth, who stayed silent with a scowl. All Rachelle and Brennan could do was watch and listen to the news reporters and various people behind them from beyond the mansion's front gates.

Ken approached them. "You're going to regret this, Dr. Brennan." he said hotly as he waved the warrant in her face. Then, he stormed past them, but not before glaring at Rachelle as well.

The women watched him go, glowering at his back. That was when they noticed Oliver standing behind the gates. He noticed them as well—particularly Brennan—and waved. Both females made faces. Brennan sighed deeply and told Rachelle to stay behind.

Doing as told, the FBI intern remained where Brennan had left her and watched as she spoke with Oliver. Apparently, Brennan didn't agree with Oliver had to say—or maybe Brennan just wasn't happy to see him—as Rachelle heard the older woman warn fiercely, "If you stalk me, Oliver, I will kick your ass."

A snort of laughter escaped from Rachelle. _This woman is officially awesome.,_ she thought, smirking. Yet, the smirk disappeared when Booth approached looking angry. "Bad news?" Rachelle hesitantly asked.

"Obviously." he grumbled, his hands on his waist.

Brennan, noticing the grim expressions, walked over to the two. "Your boss wasn't pleased, was he?"

"No." Booth said.

"We found the murder weapon." she offered some reassuring.

"That isn't enough, though. The basement flooring had no traces of blood or anything. We can't arrest Bethlehem." Booth argued. "We're left with nothing."

"Seeley," Rachelle began softly.

Just shaking his head, Booth started to walk away, "Come on, kid. We have paperwork to do."

"Um…o-okay." Rachelle said and looked to Brennan. "I'm sorry, Dr. Brennan. We tried." With that, she jogged after her mentor.

**~*--*~**

She had always hated paperwork as it was tedious and she was more of an action-orientated-type person. Rachelle would never pay much attention to the documents Booth made her write or file. And right now was no exception yet, the reason as to why she wasn't paying attention this time was different. It wasn't because she just didn't want to do it, it was because so much was on her mind.

The main worry: Chloe's death.

How could they have nothing when they had so much to work with? They had tons of evidence, geniuses on their team, fully capable FBI agents—well, Rachelle was just an intern—and etc. So why hadn't they been able to capture the murderer yet? Wasn't that they're job? Hadn't that been why Rachelle wanted to become an FBI Agent? To catch the bad guys?

Standing before a file cabinet in Booth's office with a bunch of documents in a manila folder, Rachelle frowned and hung her head. She hugged the files to her chest; it was one of those rare moments where she felt helpless.

"I wanted to become an FBI Agent to put bad guys behind bars, but how can I do that when I can't even do that—or at least help—as an intern? I want to fight, but how can I do that when I do know who's my opponent?" she asked herself aloud. The blonde girl bit her lip and scowled. "_This is so stupid_!" Gritting her teeth, the twenty-two-year-old shoved the files into the cabinet and then, slammed it shut.

She clenched her fists at her sides, trying to control her breathing. She shouldn't be that angry. She shouldn't let things like that get to her, especially so intensely. Rachelle had to stay calm, she couldn't lose her head. Booth hadn't, so she shouldn't either.

_Yet…_

The phone rang causing Rachelle to jump out of her skin, snapping out from her thoughts. Whipping her head to the desk, she furrowed her brows. _Who could be calling at this hour?_, she pondered.

Nevertheless, Rachelle walked to the phone and picked it up off the receiver. "Hello? Agent Seeley Booth's office. Rachelle Cornwell speaking." she said automatically as she had done it so many times before.

"_Hey, Rach. It's Angela_."

"Oh, hey. What's up? You sound kind of frantic."

"_It's Brennan_."

Rachelle grew worried. "Is she alright?"

"_I'm not entirely sure. One minute, we were having drinks. The next, she's running out the door saying she's figured out who Chloe's murderer is. She said to tell Booth where's she going, but she didn't really specify. Zack thinks maybe that guy Ken's house_." Angela explained, her voice sounding troubled for her best friend.

"So, let me get this straight, Dr. Brennan just went to the potential _murderer's_ house _alone_?" Rachelle asked, dread welling in her chest.

"…_Yes._" came the reply Rachelle did not want.

"Shit!" the young woman exclaimed, hanging up the phone. She ran to the door of the office and cried out, "Seeley!"

Instantly, he appeared, concern written all over his face. "What, Rachelle? What's wrong?"

"It's Dr. Brennan! She figured out who the murderer was and went to his house! She went to Ken's house!"

"By herself?"

"Yes! Angela just called confirming so!"

"Shit!" was Booth's mirror reaction.

Swiftly, he went into his office grabbing his jacket and gun. He then, snatched his student's wrist and bolted from the bureau.

"Wait! What a weapon for me, Seeley!?"

**~*--*~**

It didn't take long to reach Ken's home as Booth had sped through the city like a demon. During the drive, Rachelle called for back-up and when Booth and she arrived at the location, other FBI agents were there waiting.

Parking, Booth and Rachelle flung open their doors and entered the house as it was already opened from when Brennan went in. Once inside, the two calmed down as they approached the main room where Ken's kept all of his prized fish. They leaned up against the wall outside of the room hearing voices belonging to…_three_ people?

Booth's brows furrowed as he wielded his gun. He spoke in a quiet voice to his intern, "It seems Ken has an accomplice, so you take him and I will take Ken."

"Okay, but with what?" Rachelle whispered, demonstrating her empty hands. "What am I supposed to take him on with? My shoe?"

"Use your hands. You're a good fighter."

"That's useless if he has a fricken gun. Besides, you said my fighting style was a bad thing."

Suddenly, they heard a gunshot followed by shouting and cries of pain. Booth and Rachelle both jumped, fearing the worse had happened to Brennan. Booth could wait no longer, he had no more time to waste arguing with his intern.

"That doesn't matter now! Bones is in trouble!" Booth exclaimed.

With that, he bolted into the room gun raised. Rachelle followed fists up—that was all she had after all.

However, Brennan wasn't in trouble at all. Quite the opposite actually. She held a gun between her hands and it was pointed at Oliver, who looked terrified and had his hands risen. Ken was on the ground, holding his leg, which was bleeding because of a gunshot wound.

No one moved for a few minutes. Neither Brennan nor Oliver noticed Rachelle or Booth's presence.

Eventually, Oliver spoke, choking out, "Is everything alright, Dr. Brennan?"

"Oliver, I understand that you're here because you're concerned of my safety. However, I'm dealing with a dangerous murderer right now and despite the fact I have the situation handled, you shouldn't be here." Brennan answered quickly, anxiously, through pants. She glanced to Ken on the ground. "What I don't understand is why he is the murderer."

"It's because of his job. He wanted to save it." Booth said aloud.

Brennan looked to him, finally seeing that he was there with Rachelle at his side. "What?"

"He did it to save his job." Booth repeated. "Now, put down the gun, Bones."

"But—"

"Put it down."

Brennan lowered the pistol. She seemed lost.

"Good. Now, Oliver, go and apply pressure to Ken's wound." Booth ordered the "stalker".

"…Did he do it? Did he really kill Chloe?" Oliver questioned.

"Yes, he did."

"Then, I am just fine with letting him bleed to death."

"If that happens, he won't be convicted for killing her and her case will remain unsolved."

Oliver didn't budge from his spot, just twitched—he was contemplating. Rachelle said in hopes of convincing him, "Y'know, I heard applying pressure is a lot more painful than bleeding out."

That got him going. Oliver knelt down to apply pressure to Ken's wound. Ken whimpered. Booth released a sigh relief. He turned to his intern, "Kid, go and get the other agents to come in here and arrest Ken. I'll take care of Bones."

"Yes, sir!" With a nod, Rachelle did as ordered.

As she exited the house, she couldn't stop smiling. They had caught the bad guy.

**~*--*~**

Even though she was at Chloe Louise Eller's funeral, Rachelle could not help the pride and joy filling her. Of course, she was sad—it was a funeral, after all—and she felt bad that Chloe's parents had to be at their child's funeral. However, Rachelle was happy that they had caught the bad guy; good had won.

Before Rachelle knew it, Chloe's funeral had come to an end. Everyone had left, even Chloe's parents. Rachelle remained behind. Booth had offered her a ride, but she declined as she knew he wanted to speak with Brennan about something. Aside from that, Rachelle wanted to spend some time alone with Chloe.

That being, she stood in front of Chloe's tombstone as a gentle breeze blew making her tied up hair and black dress sway a little. A grin was apparent on her pale face. "So we did it, Chloe." she said happily. "We got your voice back. You and your baby's. We brought you justice. I'm sorry it took so long, but we finally did it."

"Are you expecting her to respond?" asked a gentle voice from behind her.

Jumping a little, Rachelle peered over slender shoulder to see none other than Zack standing there. "Oh, Zack, it's you." she grinned. "I thought you had gone home with everyone else."

"I was about to, but I saw you out here by yourself. Angela suggested that I stay behind to keep you company. I'm not sure why I took her advice, but I did." Zack admitted, a bit embarrassed to do so.

He really had no idea why he took Angela's advice. Rachelle seemed more than capable of taking herself. Besides, what danger would being around a tombstone bring. Nevertheless, his mother had always told him that a gentleman wouldn't leave a young woman without company, even if she doesn't ask. Not to mention, Zack—for some reason unbeknownst to him—wanted to speak with Rachelle again.

"I see." was all Rachelle said, tucking a few light strands behind her ear.

"Why were you talking to Miss. Eller's grave? You don't expect her to answer, do you?" Zack asked again.

Arching a brow, the FBI intern cocked her head to the side a little. "You've never spoken to someone who's died before?"

"The dead do not speak."

"Doesn't mean they can't hear you."

"They can't. They're dead, Rachelle."

Rachelle peered to Chloe's grave. "I suppose." She didn't understand that man. He was sweet and innocent, but he was too literal and rational.

Zack frowned. He had said something weird again. He didn't want Rachelle to think he was weird, he was just stating a fact. Yet, he seemed to have turned the girl off. "That's weird, isn't it?" he asked.

"Hm? What's weird?" Rachelle looked back to him.

"That I don't speak to the dead. People do it all the time, but it doesn't seem logical to me, so I do not it." Zack stated.

She shook her head. "No, it's not weird. I guess it really depends on what you believe."

"It's not a belief, it's a fact." he said.

"Maybe," Rachelle turned to him and smiled. "But I think you're wrong, Mr. Genius. I think Chloe can hear me and I bet ten million dollars she's happy somewhere that we brought her justice. She's happy we got her voice back."

"I don't understand." said Zack.

She chortled. "You might someday." she said. The blonde walked up to him and slid her arm through his. "For now, let's go grab some lunch. I'm fricken starving."

Zack tensed at the sudden contact yet, didn't resist. He just nodded and allowed Rachelle to pull him along out of the cemetery. Maybe because he did not want that brilliant and pleasant smile to disappear from the woman's face or maybe he did not want the warmth of her body to go away or maybe it was because he was hungry too.

His stomach growled loudly. Rachelle laughed. He blushed, cursing his stomach, but liking the sound of her laughter.

Maybe it was a combination of the three…


	5. Chapter 5: Explosive Identifying

_Hoowee~! I am so sorry for the long wait on this chapter. I obtained the newest Kingdom Hearts game on the DS and it was taking up all my time. Thus, the lateness. Anyway, I finally managed to finish it and here it is! Thank you to the nine people who have reviewed the past four chapters--thanks to you all! Please, keep it up! So please enjoy this and review. Thankies! ^-^ I'll try to post the next chapter sooner than I did this one._

* * *

**Chapter Five: Explosive Identity**

Having been raised by her brother most of her life and mostly having guy friends growing up, Rachelle had a hard time making friends with girls her age. She could never understand them too well. Rachelle thought they talked too much and about pointless girly things. The blonde didn't mind other women as she was one herself and did "girly" things every now and then. However, Rachelle just did not get them. That being, she usually tuned out their conversations when she was around them.

Such an example was now. She was sitting in the cafeteria at a table with a few other female interns of the FBI for lunch. They were her friends…_sort of_. They were mostly there to keep her company when Booth wasn't around or she didn't have work to do.

Anyway, Rachelle's "friends", Kayla, Lauren, and Hannah, were talking about…shopping—Rachelle wasn't sure as she only caught bits and pieces of their conversation—while she sat quietly eating her spicy chicken sandwich with mayo, lettuce, and cheese on a roll. The blonde intern was lost in her own thoughts. The other females didn't mind, speaking amongst themselves animatedly as that was how things always were during lunch hour. Kayla, Lauren, and Kayla talked and Rachelle didn't.

Except, today was going to be a little different as Lauren suddenly turned the conversation to Rachelle, "So how's working with that sexy mentor of yours, Cornwell?"

Immediately, Rachelle's head shot up from her food. She blankly stared across at the inky-haired woman. "Are you talking about Seeley?"

"Of course," Lauren answered with a roll of her chocolate orbs. "What other hot FBI agents do you know around here?"

"Uh…Is that a trick question?" Rachelle didn't really know how to respond.

Lauren sighed. "Never mind." she dismissed with a wave of her hand. She repeated her previous question, "So how's working with him?"

Rachelle placed her food down on her brown paper bag. "Interesting. I mean, I get to do more than most interns do." she admitted with a shrug of her shoulder.

"Hells yeah you do." Kayla spoke up, brushing her long, wavy bangs from her olive face. "You get to do field work and like solve actual cases. The rest of us just file documents and shit. Not interesting at all. Total bore."

"I file documents sometimes."

"Emphasis on _sometimes_. You do other things, like an actual agent."

Rachelle just shrugged and took a sip of her water.

Lauren smirked mischievously. "I bet you "do" other things, too, right? Or should I say _someone_?"

Rachelle brows furrowed suspiciously. Lauren had a sneaky mind—the kind Rachelle did not like. "What are you getting at, Marshall?" she inquired before taking another sip of her drink.

"She means, are you banging Agent Booth?" Hannah piped up—the redhead always blunt.

At that comment, Rachelle almost spat her beverage all over the other women. Fortunately, she just coughed a little and swallowed. Once she had, the blonde looked at Lauren, Hannah, and Kayla aghast, almost disgusted. "_Please_, tell me that was _not_ a serious question."

"Oh? So you are?" Lauren's smirked grew.

_How the hell did she reach that conclusion after what I just said?, _Rachelle wondered dumbfound. "Okay, _no._ I am _not_ sleeping with Seeley. That's just gross." she said.

"_Gross?_" all three women looked at the blonde as if she had lost her mind. "But he's so fine!"

"He's attractive…I guess." Rachelle hesitantly said.

"You guess?"

"Yeah. I mean, yeah, he's good-looking. But Seeley's just not my type."

"How is drop-dead gorgeous not your type, Cornwell?" Lauren mocked.

"He just isn't. Why is that such a problem?" Rachelle quipped, getting annoyed. It was conversations like this that caused her to not get along with other females her age.

Lauren, Hannah, and Kayla sighed deeply in frustration.

"_Fine,_" Lauren started. "Then, what about of the squints at the Jeffersonian? Yeah, they're all nerds, but some girls are into that type."

"Hodgins and Zack are not nerds." Rachelle rebuked. "Hodgins is an asshole, not a nerd. And Zack is just…_different_." She smiled a little, remembering the awkward, baby-faced anthropologist. "Adorable, but different."

"_Oooooh_. Adorable, huh?" Kayla teased. "So you like him then?"

Rachelle groaned with a roll of her hazel eyes. "You guys know I have a boyfriend, right?"

Lauren made a face. "Oh, yeah, right. That prison security guard, right? Scruffy-what's-his-face."

Rachelle deadpanned. "His name is Ashe Foster."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." Lauren said callously.

Rachelle glared at her. She opened her mouth to retort, but before she could, her cell phone suddenly rang. She fished it out of her pocket and flipped it open to read the caller ID. It was Booth. The twenty-two-year-old frowned thinking, _You win today, Marshall._ With that, she pressed the talk button and placed it to her ear.

"Bueno dias. Whassup, Seeley?" Rachelle answered dully.

"_Meet me in the parking lot. __**Now**__._" Booth said seriously.

"Why?"

"_There was an explosion in town. We don't know if it was a terrorist attack or not_."

Rachelle grew serious. "All right. 'Nuff said." She rose to her feet, grabbing the remains of her lunch while using her shoulder and cheek to hold her phone. "I'm on my way." The fair-haired girl dumped her food in the trashcan and started out of the cafeteria without even so much as a glance at Lauren, Hannah, or Kayla.

"_Oh. And, kid?_" Booth called just as Rachelle was about to hang up.

"Yes, sir?"

"_Don't call me Seeley._"

He hung up.

Rachelle rolled her eyes.

Either way, she grabbed her black jacket and her messenger bag then, sped out of the bureau to meet her mentor in the parking lot. He was waiting for her—the engine running—in the SUV. The blonde pulled open the door and sat down in the passenger seat with a huff. She slammed the door shut.

"Let's go." she said nonchalantly, putting her booted feet up on the dashboard.

Booth arched a brow, noticing her slightly annoyed expression and tone. "You alright, kiddo?" he asked.

"Girls are annoying as hell." his intern grumbled.

He deadpanned. "You _are_ a girl, Rachelle."

Sighing, she rolled her eyes. "Never mind. Can we just go already?"

Booth was silent for a moment, searching her pale face. He made a face. "Tell me later?"

"Maybe…" was all Rachelle mumbled, staring out the window.

No one said anything else and with that, Booth took off into town towards the location of the explosion.

**~*--*~**

The area in town where the explosion had taken place was in chaos—Rachelle could imagine what it had been like seconds after the explosion. People were crying and screaming. FBI—including its forensics team—swarmed the place helping those who were injured and covered those who had been killed with tarps. Sirens were going off and in the midst of it all was what must have been an SUV like Booth's. It was in numerous pieces—some charred and some still on fire. As well, there burned body pieces here and there—some attached to car parts.

As she stood there, Rachelle had no idea how to react. She had graduated third in her class, trained hard, and thought she had seen everything when it came to bombings, murders and etc from the films they showed. However, none of it had prepared her for something like the situation in front of her.

A large, but comforting hand came down on her shoulder. Startled, she jumped and spun around to see Booth standing there with a worried expression. "You okay, Rachelle?" he questioned.

Clearing her throat, regaining her composure, the fair-haired FBI intern put on a brave and calm expression. "Yeah. Total cool." she replied stiffly.

Booth frowned. "You sure? It's okay to be upset."

"I'm not upset." Rachelle scoffed, swatting his hand away. "You better call Dr. Brennan. Looks like she's gonna be needed. I'll see if I can do anything to help." Before her teacher could say anything, Rachelle strolled into the mess.

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, her now dark amber spheres peered around at the devastation surrounding the destroyed car. Then, they fell on the fallen people around her then, on the mutilated body parts of the victim. She chewed her cheek harder feeling anxiety and a bit of fear coming over her. _C'mon, Rach! Ya gotta be stronger this! If you want to be an agent you have to be fully prepared for stuff like this. So pull yourself together, girl! You have to be calm and collected!, _Rachelle scolded herself, shaking her head. She took deep breaths hoping to calm herself down.

"Rachelle?" called a familiar voice from behind her, snapping the female back from her thoughts.

"Huh?" Rachelle turned, causing her tied up locks to swish around. A smile graced her face upon seeing who stood there. It was none other than Zack Addy. Her eyes twinkled to a hue of near butterscotch. "Well, well, if it isn't Mr. Genius Zack Addy!" she exclaimed.

He blinked slowly. "It's um… good to see you, too, Rachelle." The floppy-haired brunet figured that was the proper response.

She jogged up to him. "What are you doing here?"

"Dr. Brennan called me saying Agent Booth called her telling her to come to this location as there was a dismembered body. Thus, she told me to come as soon as possible." he explained.

Rachelle whistled impressed. "Talk about quick service. Seeley must have called Dr. Brennan moments ago yet, here you are." She tucked her hands in her jeans' pockets.

"Well, I was already in the area. I was out on my lunch break. Dr. Brennan and Angela are supposedly not too far from here either, so they should be arriving shortly as well."

"Zack, I need vegetable oil, rubber gloves, and a couple of plastic bags!" called out Brennan's familiar stern yet, kind voice. She entered the scene tying up her hair, Angela walking behind her and Booth walking beside them.

_Speak of the devils. _

"Yes, Dr. Brennan. Would you like me to take pictures as well?" Zack automatically responded.

"Yes." she nodded before examining the damage.

"Want help?" Rachelle offered to the young man.

"If you wish," he said, going over to the newest truck where his equipment was stored in the back. The blonde girl had been helpful the last time and deemed herself quite useful, so why would he disagree this time? "Can you give Dr. Brennan the plastic bags, the vegetable oil, and a pair of gloves while I set up the camera?" Zack instructed her.

"Rightio, Zacko." She gave a curt nod and grabbed what he asked her to grab. Then, she trudged off to give Dr. Brennan the things she asked for.

As she did so, Zack's cinnamon brown hues followed her. _Zacko?_ His cheeks became a tad flushed—he didn't know why, it was just a silly nickname. Nonetheless, he shook his head of such trivial things and riveted his eyes back to setting up the camera. Once it was finished, he joined Angela, Booth, Rachelle, and Brennan near a car door where a piece of a leg was melded to.

Brennan handed an orange plastic bag—a bag Rachelle had handed to her—to Angela and stared using the vegetable oil to slip the leg off the car door. Once it was gently pried off, Brennan turned to Angela, "Please, hold open the bag, Ange."

And Angela was about to. However, the disgust and horror building inside her from the sight around her got the better of her. She bit her lip. "I-I… I'm sorry." The lovely dark-haired woman shook her head. "I just can't do this. I thought I could but…I-I can't." She handed the bag to Booth and with that, she turned and quickly walked off. They all watched her before exchanging glances.

Brennan and Zack continued working. Brennan started to put the leg in the bag again, but that time Booth was holding it. He made a face and Brennan noticed that. She frowned. "Now, if you can't do it--" she started, but he cut her off firmly.

"I can do it." The FBI Agent held open the bag for her. Just nodding, she placed the leg in the bag. He intently searched her face. The tall brunet gently said, "It's okay to be upset."

Somehow, Rachelle felt that wasn't only directed at Dr. Brennan.

Nevertheless, Bones coolly replied, "I wish this was the worse I had seen." She went towards the car to retrieve more body parts. Booth raised his brows, a bit taken aback by that statement while Rachelle stared at the older woman admirably yet, sympathetically at the same time.

"Zack, I'm going to need more bags!" Brennan ordered her assistant.

**~*--*~**

Have you ever been stuck in the middle of two people who really hate each other? A pretty awkward and tense-filled feeling, right? Well, that was exactly how Rachelle felt as she stood there in the main lab of the Jeffersonian with Booth and a Homeland Security officer on either side of her. Before them, stood the squints.

Booth, the Homeland Security officer, and she had just arrived to overhear Hodgins hassling Brennan and Zack, who stood over the separated body parts of the most recent victim, because they had defended the FBI against Hodgins'conspiracy theory about them. He accused them of becoming soft because of Booth and Rachelle.

"It has nothing to with Booth." Brennan said quickly, seeing those of the government behind Hodgins.

Zack added in the same manner seeing the blonde girl, "And it has nothing to do with Rachelle."

Booth stepped forward and said into Hodgins ear. "I don't like having squints on my team just as much as you don't like having FBI Agents on yours," he said causing the curly-haired man to stiffen in surprise. Hodgins turned to face them; his shocked expression quickly disappeared as he blankly stared up at Booth. "But we're supposed to be a team, so we just have to deal with it, okay?"

"Right. You're right. Should we have a big group hug?" Hodgins joked in deep sarcasm, opening his arms.

"Very funny." Booth deadpanned as he pushed the other male away with an open-palm on his chest.

"How 'bout you, Blondie?" Hodgins decided to add with a teasing smirk.

"Back off, Curly. I _will _kick you. _Hard._" Rachelle warned, pointing at him. Okay, so it wasn't completely awkward for her—she was still a little ticked off because of the last conversation she and Hodgins had.

"Anyway," Booth spoke up. He gestured to the plump and bald black man on the left of Rachelle. Booth introduced him. "He'll be overseeing this case with Rach and me."

"_Overseeing_?" the squints questioned, looking unhappy by that information.

"Yes," Agent Gibson nodded, his voice gruff. "This is a serious situation. We need to know if _that's--_" He pointed to the charred body pieces. "—Masruk and if what had happened was really a terrorist attack. I won't be in the way."

"We need to identify the body right away. How long will it take to get an ID from DNA?" Booth cut right to the chase, speaking pointedly to Brennan.

"That can take days." she answered making him frown. "I can identify the victim far quicker with his bones and dental records alone."

Agent Gibson's brows furrowed quizzically. "You can ID a victim with just that?"

_Oh, you'd be surprised.,_ Rachelle thought to herself, her hands in her pockets.

"Questions like that _is _getting in the way." Zack quipped, peering up at the Homeland Security officer. Rachelle snorted, holding back her snicker. Agent Gibson took aback and glowered at the boy. Zack just went back to work.

"I better get started identifying then. Please, get rid of the flesh and scrape any particulates you can find." Brennan announced, starting towards her office. However, she didn't leave without sarcastically asking Agent Gibson, "If that's alright with you." With that, she stormed past them. Rolling his eyes, Booth quickly followed.

They left Rachelle, Gibson, Zack, and Hodgins in a tense-filled silence. It got even more tense when Gibson started around the autopsy table only touching the sides causing Hodgins to snap sternly, "Don't touch the table. _Don't_ touch the table!" That resulted in Gibson and Hodgins glaring at each other.

Sighing deeply, Rachelle plopped herself down on a stool and glanced up at the ceiling. _This is gonna be interesting…_


	6. Chapter 6: Terrorist of Not

_Okidokie, so here's chapter six, kiddies. I'm sorry for the slow updates recently. I've been a very busy girl--October is always a busy month for me. Anyway, here's a new chapter, so please enjoy. Please, review! I love reviews! No flames, though--they're inappropiate. I will try to get chapter seven out a lot quicker next time._

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**Chapter Six: Terrorist or Not**

"So how does this work?" inquired Rachelle curiously as the blonde followed Zack about the lab.

Booth and Brennan were off arguing somewhere—she didn't want to get caught in the middle of that. She didn't know where Angela was. Agent Gibson was impatiently waiting in a room where they had put the body in a glass case—Hodgins and Zack told him sternly as if he was a child to touch _nothing_. And Hodgins was off examining the particulates that he had obtained from the burned victim's body—Rachelle did not want to go anywhere near him. Thus, the only person Rachelle could and wanted to hang around was Zack. He didn't seem to particularly mind.

"How does what work?" answered Zack. "Ah! There they are!"

Rachelle arched a brow at his exclaim. "I mean, how to do you clean the body of flesh when its burned?"

"Oh," The brunet turned around and showed the jar of little red beetles he had found. "With these."

"_Oooh_." she said in amazement, leaning forward to get a better look at the tiny creatures. Her hazel orbs peered up at him. "What are they?"

"Dermestes maculatus." Zack responded.

"Flesh-eating beetles?"

"Yes. We use them to rid burn victims of their flesh."

Watching his face intently, Rachelle giggled a little. Zack glanced to him quizzically. "Why are you laughing, Rachelle?"

"No reason," she shook her head. She smiled. "You just sound so attached them."

He blushed a little, peering from her to the insects. "I-I do?" he stuttered. The anthropologist had hoped that his affection for the creatures wouldn't be obvious—Hodgins said that was odd, especially to girls.

"Yeah. Don't be embarrassed, Zacko. It's cute." reassured Rachelle, flashing him a wink.

He blushed harder—she called him Zacko again and cute. "It is? It's not _weird_?" he asked hesitantly.

"Absolutely not. Pets are pets." She tapped the class with her neon orange fingernail, a grin on her face. "These lil' guys got names?"

"Oh, yes. The majority do. I still have to name a few." Zack said, sounding a bit chipper now that the young female had not found him or his attachment to the beetles peculiar.

"Cool. Can I name some?" she asked eagerly.

He tried not to sound too happy. "If you wish."

"Sweet!" beamed Rachelle. He just smiled very slightly.

With that, he took her and the beetles to where Agent Gibson was. They had to wait a few minutes for Brennan and Booth to return. When they did, Zack poured the beetles into the container where the body laid. Everyone watched while they did their magic; Zack, Brennan, and Rachelle watched patiently yet, Gibson and Booth weren't. And apparently, neither was the President as he called Gibson wondering how long it would take to ID the body.

Brennan gave Gibson a dry look. "Why don't you ask them?" she motioned to the beetles eating away at the burned victim's body. Booth shot her a look to behave. Rachelle tried holding back her laughter at the taken aback expression of Gibson's face—she really liked that woman.

**~*--*~**

Despite how slow the beetles were taking, Brennan and the rest of the squints were thinking that Hamid Masruk was the burn victim—they still had to do a few more tests though. That being, Booth called up Hamid's relatives—being his wife and brother—to break the news to them at the FBI bureau. Since it would be Rachelle's first interrogation in the interrogation room, she pleaded with Booth to let her tag along with him and Brennan, which he ultimately did allow.

Thus, there the young woman was, sitting between Booth and Brennan as Hamid's wife and brother sat across the metal table from them in the interrogation room. The wife—who was quite beautiful, but Rachelle could tell that she had a bit of "help" with that—was holding back tears while her brother-in-law, who seemed to have the same disease as his late brother, held her hands comfortingly.

"I-It can't be my husband. It just can't be Hamid." the dark-haired woman sobbed. "He wouldn't do such a thing. If you knew him, you'd know that. Are y-you sure it's him?"

"We can't be entirely sure as we don't have all of the body parts, but from the markers, there is a very good chance that it is your spouse." Brennan explained in a very business-like tone—like always.

That caused Booth and Rachelle to look to her. Booth's expression was exasperated and Rachelle was giving the other female an odd expression. Rachelle liked Brennan, but she was a bit weird sometimes—okay, maybe a lot of times. Brennan could be a bit more sensitive with people. Nonetheless, Rachelle just figured that was part of her personality or maybe lack of—whatever.

"Well, how much longer is th-this going to take?" Mrs. Masruk demanded, her strained voice becoming frustrated.

"We're sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Masruk. We're doing all we can." Booth said gently.

"That's not enough." Mrs. Masruk rebutted, sniffling. "Do you know how it is for us? Your people have searched our house, called our friends and family. We came to this country because we love it just like you three. My Hamid could not be a terrorist. Do you understand?"

Brennan decided to speak again, trying to be a bit more delicate. "We're very sorry, but these things take time." she said softly. Booth and Rachelle discreetly smiled approvingly. The auburn-haired female went on, "That's why we asked you for anything you have on file about your husband. Medical records, legal documents, and so on."

Mrs. Masruk sighed deeply before nodding. "Yes, yes. I understand." She grabbed her purse and pulled out a bunch of files. She slid them over to Brennan. "I got everything you asked for."

"Thank you." Brennan nodded. "We will do all we can and efficiently."

Afterwards, Mr. and Mrs. Masruk thanked Booth, Brennan, and Rachelle gratefully before getting up and leaving.

Now, that she had Hamid's information, Brennan wanted to get straight to work—Mrs. Masruk's words must've gotten to her. Booth, however, wanted to take a break. That being, he pulled Rachelle aside. She looked at him confused. "What's up, Seeley?" she asked.

"Tessa called me earlier." was all he said, hoping his intern would understand.

Naturally, she did. Nonetheless, the Agent didn't like the smirk that became plastered to her youthful face. "Ah, I see. While Dr. Brennan works on the case, you wanna take a break and have a lil' fun with your girl, right?" she queried teasingly.

The dark-haired man deadpanned. _This girl is such a pain in my ass…, _he thought irritably. "Look, I'm not going to discuss my sex-life with you, okay?"

"I never asked for details, Seels." she countered, making a revolted face.

"Whatever." he sighed, running a hand through his short hair. "I'm going to take a couple of hours to spend time with her since she's on her break. I need you to stay with Bones at the lab, oversee things since I won't be there."

"And to make sure the squints don't harass Agent Gibson, correct?"

"…Yeah, that too."

"Okidokie!" Rachelle saluted energetically. "I can do that, sir!"

"Good." Booth said satisfied, placing his hand on her head mussing up her hair. His voice grew firm. "Don't you cause trouble either, young lady."

She huffed and swatted his hand away. "Don't treat me like a child, Seeley." she retorted before walking away to catch up with Brennan. Just chuckling, Booth shook his head and went off in the opposite direction.

**~*--*~**

"All right! I'm back!" Brennan called out as she and Rachelle entered the Jeffersonian lab. She waved the files around as she passed a work desk where Zack and Hodgins were working on a computer—Agent Gibson was trying to see their computer with no avail.

"Did you two get anything from the particulates?" Brennan questioned, stopping in front of the men.

"Yes, Dr. Brennan." Zack piped up. He handed her a manila folder. "The particulates held fine material from his clothing, expensive shampoo, and cologne. Mr. Masruk died a well-bred man."

"Thank you, Zack." she nodded and headed towards her office.

"Dr. Brennan," Agent Gibson called to her, following. "Dr. Brennan! Whatever you have there--"

"It's just paper, Agent Gibson!" Brennan brushed him off before shutting the door behind her.

Agent Gibson sighed deeply in frustration. Then, an idea came to him and glanced back at Rachelle, who was fiddling with her cell phone near Zack and Hodgin's work station. "Hey! Agent Booth's intern!" he called to her, approaching her.

"I have a name," Rachelle retorted dully, causing Hodgins and Zack to peer to her in slight surprise. Not noticing, Rachelle just turned to look at Gibson to snidely add with a small smirk, "_Sir._" Zack raised a brow, Gibson took aback, and Hodgins smirked.

"_Anyway,_" Gibson began again, now annoyed. "You were with Booth and Brennan--"

"How astute of you." She had returned her eyes back to her phone.

Gibson gritted his teeth while Zack's eyebrows shot up and Hodgins was trying to hold back his snickers. Gibson went on, "Since you were with them, you'd have information on Masruk, right?"

"Yes?"

"Could you clue me in?"

"_Hmmm_. Nope. Sorry. I'm just an intern." Rachelle flashed him a sickeningly sweet smile. "I don't have jurisdiction to share info without Seeley or Dr. Brennan's permission."

"Ugh. Of course." Throwing up his arms, Gibson walked off.

Rachelle watched him vacantly before returning to her phone with a shrug. _Someone's touchy today.,_ she thought.

"Yo, Blondie." Hodgins called to her.

"Hm?" Rachelle looked back at the males behind her over the short glass wall. "Can I help you?"

"The way you spoke to that Homeland Security Officer was really epic. Kudos, kid." Hodgins said with a huge amused smirk.

She arched a brow. "Was that a compliment, Curly? I didn't think you were too fond of me."

"Hey, any person who treats government officials like that is okay in my book," he said, crossing his arms. "But don't go thinking we're best friends or anything."

"Heh. I think I'd be scared if that was the case." the fair-haired girl chortled. He just smirked.

"I don't understand." Zack piped up. Hodgins and Rachelle looked to him. He elaborated his confusion, "You're a government official yourself yet, you seem to not be entirely fond of them. I find that a bit queer, almost hypocritical."

"Maybe," she shrugged carelessly. She tapped some buttons on her cell. "But I don't care. I don't like too many people in our government, especially those of Homeland Security. It's ironic, yes, but I don't really give a shit. I told you my reasons for wanting to become an FBI agent, Zack, and I'll stick to them despite my disliking. Besides, I'm not a government official yet, so it's not entirely hypocritical." With that, she beamed and flashed the men a wink.

Zack stared at her and blinked. "That doesn't seem logical, at all." he pointed out.

Rachelle giggled. "You'll learn that I don't really live life logically."

"…I see." he said. He really didn't, but he didn't see the point in arguing. Rachelle just smiled kindly at him making him blush and look away.

Hodgins noticed his expression, which Rachelle hadn't, and quickly changed the subject—he wasn't completely sure he liked Zack's reaction to Rachelle despite his new breakthrough with her. "Hey, Zack," the bearded-man gently nudged his companion with an elbow. "Go check to see if the beetles are finished with the flesh.

"Oh, yes! Right!" Zack jumped up. "I'll go do that."

"Can I come with? I still want to name a few more of the beetles." Rachelle asked excitedly.

"Sure." Zack gave a curt nod. He headed off towards the room where the body was being kept at the moment. Rachelle walked alongside him.

As they left, Hodgins watched them go making a face. He was not sure he knew how to feel about those two getting along—it had its positives and negatives. Nevertheless, there wasn't much he could at that moment, he had work to do.

**~*--*~**

The beetles had finished with the flesh leaving the bones completely clean. Zack reported that to Brennan and then, the real work began. It was time to use the body's markers to match it up with Hamid Masruk's. Zack, Brennan, Gibson, and Rachelle gathered in a large room to examine the body where a bunch of large computers were, along with a bunch of translucent selves where bones laid. Intently, Rachelle watched Zack and Brennan circle the victim's body as Brennan spoke into a recording about their findings. Zack added his input or two as she do, which she recorded as well. Gibson kept quiet as they worked, but he didn't seem to like that—Rachelle had a good feeling that after that case he was going to request to never work with the squints ever again.

"Well, considering the markers, there is no doubt in my mind that this is Hamid Masruk." Brennan finally announced.

"So Masruk was definitely the bomber?" Gibson asked.

"Yes." she nodded.

"I see." Gibson frowned. Obviously, that had not been what he wanted to hear. Not that, Rachelle could blame him.

"Zack, how about you reconstruct the skull to see if we can get some insight to Mr. Masruk's illness." Brennan suggested, ignoring Gibson's remark and looking back at her graduate student.

His entire face lit up. "M-My first cranial reconstruction?" he breathed, grateful. Zack beamed, chuckling a little. "Great." Watching him, Rachelle couldn't help a grin—she hadn't known the boy for long, but she didn't see him genuinely smile too often and she was happy when he did.

"Wait, wait," Gibson called out. "You're letting the _kid_ fix the skull?"

Everyone shot him a look. Brennan scornfully pointed out, "This is an educational institute as well. He wants to learn. Do you have a problem with that?" Making a face, Gibson said nothing. Satisfied with that, Brennan gathered Masruk's files and started to leave the room. "I shall inform Booth of our findings." she announced as she headed out.

"Hold on a second. I have jurisdiction to look at those." stated Gibson, reaching out for the files.

Brennan swiftly pulled them back away from him. "Sorry. I work with Booth and Rachelle only. That was the deal." With that and a small smirk, she strolled past him and out of the room. Gibson followed her with his eyes dumbfounded.

Once she was gone, Gibson grumbled, "I cannot believe these people." He exited, leaving Rachelle and Zack alone with Masruk's body.

Rachelle approached Zack, who began examining the skull pieces with her hands folded behind her back. "Is reconstructing a skull that big of a deal?" she inquired curiously as she stood beside the young man.

"Hm?" His brown-hued eyes turned to her. "What makes you ask that?"

"You sounded and looked really excited when Dr. Brennan asked you to reconstruct the skull." the FBI intern claimed. She brushed a few stray strands from her ponytail to behind her mulit-piereced ear. "Is that like a big honor or something?"

"Oh. Well, you can think of it like that." Zack said. "It's my first time reconstructing a skull. That means Dr. Brennan respects and trusts me." He smiled at her. "So, yes, I guess it is "a big deal", as you so put it." Rachelle nodded, trying not to laugh at Zack testing out the phrase "a big deal". It was adorable, but did not quite suit someone like him.

"I'm curious, though. You make it sound like Dr. Brennan didn't respect or trust you until now." Rachelle said. Zack looked to her quizzically from his hunched position over the skull. The blonde elaborated seeing his expression, "I'm just saying. Personally, I thought she always thought highly of you. No offense to Dr. Brennan of anything, but she seems like a person who would be very picky when it came to something like choosing an assistant. She would pick someone who is very intelligent, works efficiently, is trustworthy, and is someone she respects very much. Someone like you, Zacko."

"You think so?" he asked.

"Of course," she smiled widely. "I may be a good liar, but I wouldn't lie about a thing like that."

Standing straight, Zack stared at the young woman beside him feeling…was touched the right word? Heat had rushed to his cheeks and for once he seemed speechless. Noticing, Rachelle laughed. "People generally say "thank you" at times like this, goofball." she teased playfully.

He blushed harder and adverted his eyes from her. "Th-Thank you."

"You're welcome. Oh, and by the way, congrats on your first skull reconstruction."

"…Thank you."

"There ya go! Now, you're learning!"

Zack just stayed silent, his cheeks burning yet, he could not help the smile on his face because of the smile on hers.

"Rachelle," suddenly came Brennan's voice causing Rachelle and Zack to snap their heads to the entrance of the room to see the beautiful forensic anthropologist standing there.

"Uh, yes, Dr. Brennan?" Rachelle answered.

"Aren't you coming with me to Booth's?" Brennan questioned, waving the files.

"Oh, um, yeah." the other female nodded. She turned to Zack again and kissed his cheek quickly. "Bye, Zacko. Congrats again on the reconstructing thing." Then, she turned on her heel and scampered off with Brennan as Angela appeared. "Hi, Ange! Bye, Ange!" Brennan and Rachelle left.

Once they were gone, Angela peered to Zack, who was staring at the spot where Rachelle once was with bright red cheeks. She smirked knowingly. Seeing that, Zack cleared his throat and anxiously gazed down at the autopsy table. Angela's smirk got wider.

**~*--*~**

"I thought I told you, Rach, that I was going to be with Tessa." Booth said a bit annoyed when he, Rachelle, and Brennan entered to FBI building to tell his boss about Brennan's findings.

"I forgot, okay?" Rachelle shrugged. "It's not that big of a deal. It's not like Dr. Brennan and I caught you two going at it or anything."

He shot a disapproving look at her over his broad shoulder. "Can you not phrase it like that?"

"Whatever." she shrugged again.

"I don't see why you're scolding Rachelle, Booth. Sexual relationships, anthropologically speaking, is very necessary in building a well-rounded society. There's no need to be embarrassed." Brennan explained.

Booth snapped his head to her. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Sex is a good thing. No need to be a prude." Rachelle translated for Brennan in her own way.

"Ugh! You too are unbelievable!" Booth groaned.

Brennan and Rachelle huffed offended. "What did I do?" they said defensively in unison.

Booth opened his mouth, but was cut off when Agent Santana came over to the three. "Booth, what are the results?" he asked. His voice was stern and serious— Rachelle had never seen a time when he wasn't like that.

"Masruk's the bomber." Booth answered, getting into business mode.

Santana sighed deeply. "That's too bad."

Booth, Brennan, and Rachelle stared at his confused. "He killed four people and injured another fifteen. How is that "too bad"?" asked Brennan.

"Because our bomb team figured out that the bomb had been planted underneath Masruk's car, timed with the SUV's pedometer." Santana explained.

The three exchanged looks then, looked back to Santana. Booth asked before the other two, "So who set Masruk up?"

"That's what we're paying you for, Booth." Santana retorted. Booth glared at him, but didn't argue. Brennan and Rachelle glanced to each other briefly.

Either way, it seemed they were back at square one again.


	7. Chapter 7: Twisted Sickness

_See? I told you I'd get the next chapter sooner than the previous two and I kept to my word! Here is chapter seven and its long. I hope you enjoy. Please, review. Thankies. ^-^_

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**Chapter Seven: Twisted Sickness**

"Now what?" Rachelle asked to the other two. "Our so-called bomber is now the victim? So who's the real bomber?"

"That's a really good question, kid." Booth sighed. He rested his fists on his hips. "I suppose we contact Masruk's wife and tell her the "good" news."

"I agree. That's a good place to start from." Brennan concurred.

"Okay." Rachelle nodded.

And that is exactly what they did. Sahar Masruk came in good time and the three broke the news to her. She went on a rant on how she had had told them that Hamid had been the victim, but they hadn't believed her. Sahar also accused them of discrimination, which Brennan corrected by saying it was only natural because of what happened on 9/11. Booth scolded Brennan, but Sahar reassured him that honesty was welcomed. As well, Sahar admitted to arguing with her husband before the explosion and she felt terrible about it. Booth, Brennan, and Rachelle comforted her with the usual words of saying they would do all they could.

Either way, Booth, Brennan, and Rachelle had gotten that out of the way and Sahar thanked them gratefully—despite her tad annoyance towards them—before leaving. When she had, Booth muttered aloud, "I think she's having an affair personally." That caused the women to turn to him.

"What makes you say that, Seeley?" Rachelle inquired for the both of them.

"Well, think about it," he began as the three filed out of the interrogation room. "She goes to a gym, got a Botox injection, and she seems really guilty about the confrontation the two had before his death."

His student scratched the back of her neck while they entered the elevator. "Now, that you point that out, that makes a whole lot of sense. Wonder who her boyfriend is then…"

"Good question." Booth nodded.

"Wait a minute," Brennan spoke up for the first time since Sahar left. The FBI employees looked to her. "How can you two just jump to a conclusion like that? There's no evidence of such."

"We don't need it. The clues are all there, Bones." argued Booth while they exited the elevator and headed out of the building to his SUV in the parking lot. "Lunch anyone?" he suggested.

"Yes, please. I'm starving." Rachelle raised her hand, jumping into the backseat.

"But you need _evidence_. You can't just assume things like that." Brennan said from the passenger seat.

Booth drove towards his favorite restaurant. "Relax, Bones. It's a gut feeling."

"That doesn't mean anything." she said in rebuttal.

Booth and Brennan began arguing…_again._ Rolling her light eyes, Rachelle sighed deeply and sunk in her seat. _Here they go again. They're like an f-ing married couple…,_ she thought, staring up at the ceiling. Deciding to not listen to the two bicker at the way to the restaurant, the blonde girl fished through her messenger bag and pulled out her metallic lime green iPod.

The three finally reached the restaurant and Booth and Brennan still hadn't stopped arguing about whether or not Sahar was having an affair. Rachelle chose to ignore them, especially since she was going to get food. However, just as she was about to enter the building with the other two, her cell phone went off.

_Who could be calling me?, _she wondered yet, pulled out her phone, told Booth and Brennan she'd catch up with them inside—though they didn't quite hear her over the arguing—and stayed outside to answer. The twenty-two-year-old flipped open the technology and placed it to her ear.

"Buenos dias. Rachelle Cornwell speaking." she answered, brushing her long bangs from her pale face.

"_Hey, baby. Long time no talk._" came a familiar voice that made the woman's heart skip a beat.

"Ashe?" Rachelle asked, sounding hopeful.

"_Who else, silly?_" he chuckled affectionately on the other end.

"Ashe! It's been so long. How are things? Are you eating well? Has work been hard? How's the weather up there?" she questioned quickly, excitedly as she leaned her back against the brick wall.

"_Rach, calm down, babe. I can't answer everything at once._" Ashe laughed at her energy.

Rachelle flushed embarrassed, twirling her free index finger in a lock of hair. "Sorry. I'm just so happy to hear from you. It's been so long. I've missed you, luvie."

"_I've missed you, too._" the young man said gently making the butterflies in her stomach flutter. "_Things have been good. Kind of tedious watching the same criminals every day, especially in this ridiculously cold weather, but I can't really complain; I chose to work here. Otherwise, things have been great._" Suddenly, Rachelle heard another male in the background shout "Hi, Rachelle!" causing Ashe to say, "_Oh, and Paul says "hi"._"

She guffawed. "Yeah, I heard. Tell that moron I say "hi" back."

She heard her boyfriend say her greetings back to their friend before returning his attention back to her, "_So how have things been on your end, Rach?_" And added for good measure in a joking tone, "_Have you been eating well? Has work been hard? How's the weather __**down**__ there?_" Rachelle laughed a little.

"I'm eating just fine. You know me, always eating like a pig and never gaining a pound." she began making her lover laugh on the other end. She went on, a huge grin on her face, "Work has been interesting. I'm finally getting to do field work unlike the other interns."

"_That's awesome._" Ashe commented.

"Mmhm," Rachelle nodded. "And the weather is just fine. Fall is soon approaching. Anyway, when are you coming down to visit me?"

"_I don't know. Works not crazy or anything, but we don't have a lot of guards here. I could try to come down for Thanksgiving, but that's a big maybe._" he admitted, sounding regrettable.

The blonde frowned deeply. "But, I really want to see you, Ashe. It's almost been two months." She tried sounding seductive—something she wasn't particularly good at, especially when she was in public surrounded by people, "My bed has been so lonely without you, love." She blushed furiously, her eyes dancing from place to place on the sidewalk hoping no one had heard her.

She heard snickers coming from Ashe making her face become redder. However, she couldn't help a smile when the twenty-six-year-old said while laughing, "_You are so adorable. I could only imagine your bright red face as you said that while trying to avoid eye-contact with anyone walking by._"

"You're such an ass, Ashe." she muttered yet, her voice had very little bite to it.

"_Yeah, but I'm your ass and you love it and me._" he teased.

"I do love you, honey."

"_I know and I love you, too, Rachelle._"

"So then come down here and visit me."

"…_I'll try, sweetie, I'll try. Just be patient._"

"Okay." she responded reluctantly. Rachelle was a patient person, but this long distance relationship and Ashe's absence was driving the poor girl insane.

"_That's my girl. Now, I gotta go._" he said, sounding very distracted suddenly.

"…Oh, all right. Will you call again tomorrow or do you want me to call you?" the blonde queried.

"_Nah. I'm gonna really busy tomorrow with a new prisoner. I'll try calling you next week maybe." _Ashe replied, sounding detached as well.

Rachelle frowned. _Maybe…? He always says that…_, she thought sadly. Nonetheless, she tried sounding happy, "Okay. Bye. I love you."

"_Love ya, too. Bye._" With that, he hung up. Rachelle hung up as well and sighed, closing her phone and putting it in her bag.

Rachelle raised her now dark forest green eyes to the graying sky feeling crestfallen and a little bit lonely. She felt sick almost. She always felt that way after Ashe called. She loved the young man, there was no doubt, but for some reason recently, she was starting to doubt _his _feelings for _her_. Yeah, he called and visited yet, those times were so rare and few. And near the end of Ashe's calls and visits, Rachelle felt him pulling away. He would just suddenly become cold and distant. Maybe it was just all in her mind. However, that's how it seemed to be going. Maybe the flame in their relationship of four years was starting to die out, but how or why could that be?

She sighed deeply and hung her head.

"Rachelle?"

"Huh?" The blonde girl jumped startled—snapping out of her thoughts—and whipped her head around to see Brennan standing there. Becoming flustered, Rachelle cleared throat and regained her composure. She feigned a bright smile. "Yes, Dr. Brennan? Is everything alright?"

Brennan brows furrowed. "For some reason, I feel like I should be asking you that, Rachelle. You seemed distraught." she claimed.

"Oh. No. I'm fine. Just thinking. No biggie." Rachelle chuckled, a bit anxiously, while her index twirled a strand of her hair.

"If you're sure." Brennan said hesitantly. Like Zack, she wasn't good with understanding people's emotions too well, but since she began working with Booth and Rachelle, Brennan started to feel like she wanted to learn such a valuable trait. She just wished it wasn't so confusing—like right now.

Rachelle nodded and smiled softly that time; she appreciated that Brennan seemed to care about her wellbeing. "I'm sure, but thanks for asking, Dr. Brennan. Now, why are you out here? Seeley piss ya off or something?" she asked.

Brennan scowled. "Yes, you could say that. I just don't fathom how he could just jump to such a conclusion as Mrs. Masruk having an affair. He has no evidence to base it on yet, he seems so confident. And Angela agrees with him." she explained, sighing in frustration.

"It's best to just ride it out." Rachelle said.

"I'm not sure what that means." Brennan admitted.

"In other words, it's best to let Seeley think what he thinks. More often than not, he's right. Just like how you get answers from facts and science, Seeley gets his answers from his gut and his instincts." clarified Rachelle, tucking her hands into her jeans' pockets.

"Hmmm. I see." Brennan contemplated. Her bright orbs glanced back to the shorter and younger female. "Well, I appreciate your advice, Rachelle. I will make sure to take that into consideration the next time we have a disagreement."

A chuckle emitted from Rachelle. "You do that, Dr. Brennan."

"Right," Brennan nodded. "I have to return to the lab now to hopefully give us some leads as to Masruk's condition and his murderer."

"Okay. Call us when you figure anything out." Rachelle said.

"Will do."

With that, Brennan left and went off towards the Jeffersonian. When Rachelle couldn't see the woman's back anymore, her stomach growled reminding her of how hungry she was. Laughing at herself, Rachelle went inside the restaurant order some food and join Booth and Angela.

**~*--*~**

As it seemed, Hamid and his brother, Farid shared an illness. That was obvious from the particulates and from Farid's facial deformity. However, everyone thought there was something more to the illness, especially the squints, as there appeared to be some sort of gypsum from a dioxin emitted from the bomb. That being, Brennan, Booth, and Rachelle decided to pay Farid a visit at his home hoping to get some insight. Unfortunately, they didn't get much as Farid didn't know what his illness was either and was grateful that they were offering him help. What Booth, Brennan, and Rachelle did learn, though, was that Sahar, Hamd's wife, was indeed having an affair and that Farid was a Christian—something that Hamid and Sahar did not particularly agree with.

It wasn't much, but it was a start. A start that they were going to run as far as they could with.

Starting with investigating Sahar's lover, Mr. Ali Ladjavardi.

Needless to say, that did not end too well. As it seemed, Mr. Ladjavardi was a mole for Homeland Security and if Booth had continued with the interrogation, the secrecy of his identity might've been blown as Agent Santana so angrily put it and if Booth went near Ladjavardi ever again, he'd be in serious trouble. That caused Booth to get angry yet, he couldn't say anything. Not that he needed to, it was clear to Brennan and Rachelle how Booth felt. Thus, Rachelle decided to stay quiet as she sat in the back seat of the SUV not wanting to anger her mentor further. Nevertheless, Brennan didn't do as such since she was the type of person to say whatever was on her mind and that is exactly what she did.

"Do you want me to drive? You're angry and its controlling you, you're going to kill someone as this rate." Brennan said.

"I'm not angry," Booth seethed through his teeth, his knuckles white from clenching the steering wheel so hard. "You don't want to see me when I'm angry."

"Like you are now?" Rachelle whispered under her breath as she gazed out the window. She didn't expect him to hear her, but he had.

"Shut up, Rachelle May." he retorted, shooting her a heated look through the rearview mirror. "I _am_ not angry."

She deadpanned, saying nothing else—at least not out loud. _Yeah, and using my middle name is a great example of how angry you aren't.,_ the intern thought dryly.

"Don't take your anger out on Rachelle. She didn't do anything, Booth." Brennan scolded, coming to the younger woman's defense. "We understand where you're coming from. We keep coming up dry, but there's no need to give up and get emotional about it."

Booth rolled his eyes and tried controlling his breathing before saying, "Can we talk about something else?"

"Fine. How about Tessa?" Brennan suggested dully.

_Oh, god. Don't go there, Doc., _Rachelle made a face.

"Wha-Why? No! We will _not_ talk about her." Booth quipped skeptically.

"Why not? We discussed this before. Sexual relationships are necessary for a well-built society." Brennan pointed out.

"Again with this…" he groaned. "What is your fixation with Tessa? Is it so hard to believe that I have someone special in my life?"

"No. Did I say that?" she said. "I think it's interesting. Humans' interactions with one another are a fascinating thing. Like Mrs. Masruk's affair."

"You make it sound like it's a good thing. Sahar very well could've killed her husband and you're saying her affair is _interesting_?"

"How is Mrs. Masruk a suspect just because she had an affair?"

"Probably to protect Ladjavardi. If Hamid found out about him, he could've blown his cover to get revenge. Thus, Sahar killed him in order to avoid such an incident."

"Where's the proof?"

Rachelle officially wanted to bang her head against a wall at that point—the conversation was going in circles and it was driving her mad.

"I'm just making a guess, Bones. We in the FBI do that, we look at all of the angles in hopes of finding the right one." Booth stated.

"Okay. Fine. Then, how about this for an angle, hypothetically speaking? What if Tessa was sleeping with someone else and--" Brennan began.

"Whoa. Wait a minute. That would never happen." Booth cut in quickly.

"I'm just saying hypothetically." Brennan reassured. She continued with what she was originally saying, "What if Tessa was sleeping with someone else and you found out. In result, she decides to protect her other lover and blow you up. Is that just?"

Groaning, Booth rolled his dark eyes. "No, of course not. That's no reason to kill anyone at all." he grumbled.

"Exactly." Brennan said proudly.

"Can we not talk about this either?" Booth said, almost pleadingly. "Speaking hypothetically about a murder and making a guess about certain clues are two different things."

"Right because you were a sniper, so you'd know all about killing, right?" snapped Brennan, sighing deeply.

Rachelle grimaced seeing Booth's face grow graver than it already was. _Oooh. Bad move, Dr. Brennan._

"Maybe we should just not talk at all." Booth said angrily.

"Fine. Right. Because you're angry." Brennan huffed with a roll of her eyes.

"I'm not--" he stopped himself. "Why don't we talk about your boyfriend?"

"I don't have a boyfriend." smirked Brennan.

"You make it sound like it's a good thing."

"Because it is. Such relationship, despite necessary for society, is too complicated."

"That's ridiculous. Even the kid back there is in a relationship."

"Do not bring me into this twisted argument of yours, Seeley. For once, I'm happy keeping my mouth shut." Rachelle said.

**~*--*~**

Fortunately, mostly to Rachelle, Booth and Brennan decided to work separately for a little while. Booth and Rachelle would go look up Hamid and Farid's medical histories while Brennan tried figure out the exact materials in the dioxin left from the bomb with the other squints. So Rachelle was searching the web on anything on her laptop, which was perched on her crossed ankles as she sat Indian-styled on a chair. Booth was across from her, behind his desk, on his computer searching the web for any information as well.

"Find anything, kid?" Booth asked, his eyes never leaving the computer screen.

"Not yet," she shook her head making her shoulder-length lock swish about her face—she had let her hair down since she wasn't out on the field at the moment. "And don't call me "kid", Seeley. How about on your end?"

"Don't call me "Seeley". And I've found nothing yet either." Booth retorted gruffly.

"You don't think it would be this hard. We've been at it for nearly half an hour. Since Hamid worked for the government, I figured it would be easier to find his and his brother's condition." Rachelle stated, resting her chin in her palm.

"Yeah," he said. Then, he completely changed the subject, "So you never told me what was bothering you earlier before this case even started."

Raising her now yellow/green eyes to her teacher, Rachelle gave him an incredulous expression. "You're really going to bring that up now?"

"Yeah, why not? It seemed to really bother you before and you seemed down during lunch so I figured it was still bothering you." he pointed out.

"They don't entirely tie into each other, but it doesn't matter. Nothing I can't handle." Rachelle shrugged dully, returning her attention to her laptop.

"You always say that. C'mon, Rach. You can confide in me." Booth reassured gently, trying to urge her to talk.

"I know I can. You're my mentor; I'm supposed to be able to talk to you easily. However, these issues are petty and I'd rather not burden you with them." his student explained, tapping away at her computer's keyboard.

"Does it have to do with those annoying female interns you hang around sometimes or that boyfriend of yours?"

"…Both."

"Well, for starters, those girls are shallow airheads--"

"Tell me something I don't know."

"And as for that boyfriend of yours--"

"Do you really even want to talk about Ashe? You don't even like him." Rachelle pointed out wryly, looking at the brunet man. She was getting that sick feeling in the pit of her stomach again.

"…I never said that." Booth said hesitantly, avoiding direct eye-contact.

"Like you had to." she scoffed, leaning back in her chair. "The last time Ashe visited, you kept glaring at him and giving him the third degree. You treated him like he was a criminal."

"That's because he is one."

"No, he is not!" She frowned as she paused. "At least not anymore. He's cleaned up. He's a security guard at a jail in Canada now. You know that."

"People don't change that easily, Rachelle. You don't know what he is doing up there. It's not like he calls or comes to see you enough to reassure you that he's doing well."

"That's a low blow, Seeley. I've known Ashe since my first year of college, I trust him. He's changed and for the best, so lay off will ya? And people can change. Maybe not easily, but they can, trust me."

Booth peered to his intern's stubborn and annoyed face indicating he had gone too far. He sighed deeply. "All right, all right. I hear you. I'm sorry. Just stop looking at me like that." he said.

"Good." she gave a nod.

After that, no one said anything else for a while. The two just worked on their computers, searching for anything they could find. Except as time went on, nothing changed. They were finding nothing and that seemed to be the way things were going to stay.

With deep sighs, Booth and Rachelle gave up. They had to go report their findings—or lack of—to Brennan, so they did. They turned off their computers, grabbed their jackets, got into the SUV and headed to the Jeffersonian.

**~*--*~**

"We couldn't find anything about the Masruks' illness. No medical records of it at all." Booth announced boldly as he and Rachelle stepped onto the platform where the squints were gathered. They all looked to him from a computer they were looking at.

"Looking up the doctor, too, Dr. Brennan?" asked Rachelle, joining the group.

"No. Afraid not." the auburn-haired woman shook her head. "I'm still trying to figure out what is making up the dioxin."

Zack added, glancing to the FBI employees, "We're having a bit of trouble as you can see. If we had the liver, they'd be no problem."

Booth's brows furrowed. "Why I feel like I need a translator when I walk in here?"

"The liver is like a filter. If we still had it, it would tell us what was infecting Hamid and Farid. However, the liver, any other internal organs, and the flesh are completely gone." explained Brennan, standing straight from the computer.

"So then what do we do?" Rachelle asked, looking about the others' faces.

"How about the beetles?" Hodgins suggested. Everyone turned to him. "They would definitely have whatever was infecting Hamid in their systems."

"That's a great idea, Hodgins." smiled Brennan. She headed to the location of the flesh-eating beetles. Booth and Hodgins speedily followed her.

"But, wait--" Zack began frantically, but Rachelle cut him off by grabbing his wrist and pulling him to follow the others, "C'mon, Zacko. Don't lag behind." He started to protest yet, stopped as she dragged him into the same room as the rest of the group.

"So how do we do this?" asked Rachelle once she released Zack and stood next to Booth.

He, Brennan and Hodgins were gathered around the two jars of flesh-eating beetles. Zack when up to the jar and hugged one to himself. "We can't kill them. They have names." he pointed out, a bit of panic in his usually vacant tone. Rachelle stiffened at that information. _Wait, we have to __**kill**__ them?,_ she thought, taken aback.

"I'm sorry, Zack, but we have to." Brennan said, her voice sympathetic. "At least a few." She reached into the jar he was holding with a gloved hand and dropped some into another jar that Hodgins was holding.

Closing the container he was holding, the curly-haired man smirked at the graduate student across from him. "Y'know, I heard in some countries, they eat these lil' guys by barbequing them and then, put mayonnaise on them. Yum." he teased before leaving to do the "deed". Brennan followed him as Zack's jaw dropped at his co-worker's declaration.

Booth frowned at the entire scenario and went to give the other male a pat on the shoulder in reassurance except he stopped himself. He walked past Zack to walk after the other two. Zack bit his lip and gazed down at the jarred beetles cradled in his arms.

Rachelle had never seen the young man so sad—and was hoping to never see such an emotion on his face ever. It made her chest tighten; it hurt him to see him like that. She wanted to comfort Zack. That being, the fair-headed girl hesitantly called to him, "Z-Zacko?" He didn't reply making her worry. She tried again softly, "Zack?" That time, he looked to her with glassy coffee-colored eyes. She bit her lip. "Are-Are you alright?" she asked in concern. _What a stupid question. Of course he's not okay. Just look at him, Rach! He looks like a little boy, who just saw his puppy die.,_ she scolded herself.

Reaching out, she placed a gentle and comforting hand on his arm. "Of course you're not okay. They're your pets. The beetles mean something to you and now they're going to kill a few of them. No one would be okay with that." she said delicately. "I'm so sorry. Is there anything I could do, Zack?"

He said nothing and just stared at her. That was not making the girl feel any better.

"C'mon, Zack, say something. You're starting to worry me here." Rachelle almost pleaded.

"I-I don't…They just can't…They have names and I--" Zack opened his mouth, but no complete sentences would come out. He sighed and hung his head sadly. "I'm sorry, Rachelle. I-It's just they have names. And I don't know how exactly to explain how I feel. I don't want them to kill them, but they have to. I just can't--" All of his words were coming out in a rush and strained; Rachelle was having a difficult time understanding exactly what he was saying.

Then again, it was not like she needed to know what he saying to understand how he was feeling. He was upset and that was all she need to know.

Frowning, Rachelle comfortingly rubbed his arm that she had been holding. She tried smiling. "How about this, after this case is done, I take you out for ice cream?" she offered.

His big eyes looked to her. "I-I don't understand how th-that--"

"I know that won't bring those beetles back, but it may you feel better for a little while. Ice cream always makes me feel better when I'm upset, even if it is just a tiny bit, especially with friends." Rachelle pointed out.

He didn't say anything for a while and just stared at her. The graduate did not know how to respond to such an offer. It was obvious that Rachelle was trying to comfort him, but he didn't know why. To him though, it didn't matter…for some reason. She was being a friend and wanted him to feel better—that was what friends did, right? He felt upset and Rachelle did not want him to be. For some reason unknown to him, that made him feel a tad bit better already. Maybe ice cream with her would make him feel better all together—even if it was just for a moment.

Hesitantly, he choked out, "O-Okay. Th-Thank you, Rachelle. Th-That may help." He attempted at smiling yet, it did not come out right.

Nonetheless, Rachelle grinned lightly. "All right. We'll do that then." She squeezed his arm tenderly then, grabbed his hand. "Now, c'mon. We still have work to do. We have to figure out what the Masruks' sickness is."

"Uh, yes, right." the brunet just gave a stiff nod, steadily regaining his composure. He placed the jar down, putting a lid on it, and allowed Rachelle to guide him out of the room so they could meet up with Booth, Brennan, and Hodgins.


	8. Chapter 8: Solving of the Case and Heart

_Okidokie, kiddies. Here's chapter eight. Thank you to everyone who reviewed the previous chapters, thank you! Keep it up, please! Anyway, please enjoy. ^-^_

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Solving of the Case and Heart**

While Zack, Hodgins, and Angela figured out what the contents of the dioxin that was coursing through Farid and Hamid's veins and where the bomb was made, Booth, Brennan, and Rachelle went to find Ladjavardi. They didn't get a chance to find out where he was the day Hamid was he infected, but they were going to find out now.

"I thought you weren't supposed to go anywhere near Ladjavardi." Brennan pointed out while she, Booth, and Rachelle stepped out of the SUV once the car had stopped. They had spotted their target strolling by on the nearest sidewalk.

"I'm not, but _you're _not restricted by that rule." Booth said with a cocky smirk.

Her brows furrowed. "So what am I supposed to do?"

"Just get the information out of him, but be subtle." he told her.

Rachelle was going to tell him maybe she should be the one interrogating Ladjavardi as Brennan was not subtle, ever, but it was too late. Brennan approached Ladjavardi and attempted in getting his whereabouts by talking. He wasn't going to allow that, though, and threatened her while reaching out to push her out of the way. That resulted in Brennan grabbing and flipping him so he wound up on his back on the ground with her heel at his throat. Booth and Rachelle winced.

"She doesn't like to be touched." Booth stated, peering down at the fallen man. Ladjavardi looked up at him skeptically—while coughing—before returning his fear-filled eyes to his assaulter.

"Now, tell us where you were the first week of June." Brennan demanded.

"I was with H-Homeland Sec-Security in Utah, doing tr-training! I swear! I was th-there till August 12th! You ch-check with th-them on that!" coughed out Ladjavardi.

"Thank you." she gave a nod and pulled back her foot from his throat.

"Yeah, thanks." Booth grinned and turned to head back to the SUV. Brennan followed him, proudly smirking.

"Uh, sorry about that, man." Rachelle apologized quickly to Ladjavardi, who was still on the ground. "Apparently, that's subtle to those two." With that, she turned on her booted heel and marched off to join her comrades in the vehicle.

Rachelle slid into the back of the car and Booth revived the engine before taking off down the road. She leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest before saying, "I'm not an expert or anything, but I feel like we're getting nowhere. At least not on the murderer. Or am I missing something?"

For a moment, neither Booth nor Brennan responded to the blonde's claim. All they did was exchange glances. They didn't know what to say. Rachelle was young and inexperienced, so it was only natural that she was a bit clueless as to what was going on. On the other hand, she wasn't wrong on being confused as to who the true murderer was as Booth and Brennan weren't entirely too sure either.

"_Well?_" Rachelle questioned, leaning forward to the front to glance between the older people.

"Sit back, kid, and put your seatbelt on." was all Booth told her.

Exhaling deeply in frustration, his student sat back and buckled her seatbelt. Once it clicked, she said, "_Now_, will you answer my question?" Booth opened his mouth to say _something _to her, but was cut off by Brennan's phone going on. He and Rachelle immediately looked to her puzzled and waited in anticipated silence as she answered her cell.

Hodgins had called and what he was telling her must've been important because her usually cool composure quickly became surprised. She whipped her head to Booth to cry out, "The bomb was created at Woodly Park!"

Booth's brows furrowed. "That's where Farid lives." he said in disbelief.

Brennan and Rachelle exchanged flabbergasted looks then, looked back to the only male. "Are you serious? Doesn't that mean--?" Rachelle started, but was cut off by Booth making a really fast U-turn. "Shit!" she slammed back into her seat.

**~*--*~**

Since Farid hadn't answered his door after Rachelle, Booth, and Brennan arrived at his home, Booth took the incentive to kick down the door. It cracked on its hinges and Booth went into the home first with his gun raised. Brennan and Rachelle followed closely behind—inwardly feeling annoyed as they still weren't permitted weapons. However, it just so happened that Farid wasn't home permitting the three to search the house freely and they took that chance eagerly. Cautiously, but eagerly. The three separated to search in three different parts of the house. Brennan went to the kitchen, Booth in the living room, and Rachelle in the bedroom.

Brennan called up Hodgins again and hurriedly asked, "Jack, I've got two gallons of chloride and a bunch of plastic wiring here. Wasn't those two things in the dioxin?" She paused on her cell and shortly received a confirmation from her bug and slime guy. Brennan went on, "How much distance could the bomb get?"

"_If we're thinking along the same lines as the car bomb, probably 300 to 500 meters. Those who don't get killed would suffer from various ailments. Cancer, for example._" Hodgins in the same rushed tone on the other end.

"All right. Thank you. I'll give you all updated." with that Brennan hung up to shortly hear Booth shout out from the living room, "Farid definitely killed his brother!"

Brennan immediately went to him to see what he had discovered. In his arms was an SUV manual. "He has the manual to his brother's car and guess what he's got dog tagged? The odometer section." Booth explained.

"Um, Seeley! Dr. Brennan! You might want to come and see this!" yelled Rachelle from the bedroom.

Exchanging apprehensive looks, Brennan and Booth swiftly went to where the blonde was. They found her knelt by Farid's bed with a tub filled with a bunch of different equipment—the proper equipment to create a bomb.

Noticing their presence, Rachelle raised her eyes to them. "He made another bomb." she said regrettably.

Booth gritted his teeth and hissed out, "And it's out there _somewhere_ right _now._" He turned around and went back into the living, Brennan and Rachelle filed after him. They searched some more.

"Ugh! He wasn't a Christian!" Brennan exclaimed in disgust as she pulled out a bunch of papers from a drawer. She threw them down. Booth and Rachelle peered to her with arched brows.

"Is that the Allah?" Booth inquired.

"Not exactly. More like a twisted translation of the Allah to give people an excuse to become terrorists." she said gravely.

"I see." He just nodded then, arched a brow when Rachelle handed him a planner calendar from a drawer she had been snooping through. His dark chocolate eyes reflected confusion. Rolling her eyes, his intern motioned him to open it. He did so and his eyes widened at what he read, "He circled today! 5:30! We have to Homeland Security, they'll secure the apartment. Meanwhile, we have to find Farid."

No one argued. They dropped everything and bolted from the house and got into the SUV. Booth dialed Gibson from Homeland Security and Brennan dialed Angela to frantically find Farid's location.

**~*--*~**

Booth, Brennan, and Rachelle dashed into the establishment that was holding the Peace Conference, the place where Farid was bound to show up with a homemade bomb. Once inside, the three began searching anxiously for their terrorist. They started with the bottom floor…found nothing and then, headed to the second floor, up the escalator.

"Where is the back-up you asked for? They should be here." Brennan said worriedly.

"They're tying up the horses out back." Booth quipped.

The women shot him looks as they ascended. "Sarcasm doesn't help right now." they retorted.

He sighed deeply. "They're preparing a SWAT team and that takes time. If Farid notices them, we're screwed." he explained as they reached the second floor.

"Okay, but what are we gonna do if they don't come in time?" questioned Rachelle as she trailed the other two in a fast strides. She looked to her mentor uneasily. "Are you…" The young woman swallowed hard. "Are you going to shoot him?" Rachelle knew how he felt about killing people and always got concerned when it came to moments like that for Booth.

"I'm not going to shoot a target unless the situation is dire." Booth responded seriously, keeping his eyes forward.

"Does that make it easier for to call him a target?" asked Brennan with a straight face as she peered over the railing for any signs of Farid.

"What odd time to have this discussion!" Booth said with a huff of annoyance.

"Look! It's Farid!" Brennan cried out, pointing over the railing. Booth and Rachelle looked over as well, standing on either side of Brennan. Booth whipped out his gun and aimed it at the wobbling man down below with a heavy bag on his shoulders.

"How do you know it's him? It's just the back of his head." Booth said.

"All of Farid's markers fit him perfectly! It is Farid!" Brennan snapped at him. "Shoot!"

"I can't! I need to be hundred percent sure it's him!"

"This is my job, Booth! Trust me! It is him! He is even swaggering because of the weight of the bomb in his bag!"

"I-I can't!"

"Booth!"

"I need a face! I need a face!"

"BOOTH!"

"I NEED A FACE!"

"Oh, for the love of--!" Rachelle leaned over the railing and bellowed out, "FARID!"

The man below instantly turned at his name and looked up.

Bad idea—not to mention, a _stupid_ idea.

His eyes widened at the sight of Booth with a gun, Brennan, and Rachelle. Farid reach into his bag, but before he could do anything, Booth fired his weapon hitting the objective straight in the temple. He collapsed to the floor. Rachelle gasped, her hands clasping her mouth and Brennan jumped with wide eyes. Booth made a face, lowering his gun. People in the lobby screamed and ran about. Gibson and members of the SWAT team appeared at that point. Gibson rushed to Farid's fallen body. The three on the second floor they silently waited to see if Farid had the bomb on his person or not. Shortly, Gibson looked up at them and slowly nodded.

Rachelle, Booth, and Brennan released the breathes they had been holding in. Brennan raked a shaky hand through her wavy tresses, Rachelle's hands were still clasped to her mouth—not knowing whether it was out of horror still or now relief. And Booth hung his head, his mouth forming a straight, firm line.

It was over…

**~*--*~**

It was hard to describe how Rachelle felt at that exact moment and she always seemed to have a very firm grasp of her emotions. She was the only who knew herself better than else, but right now seemed to be an exception to such.

She had just seen a person die, right in front of her very eyes. Yes, she had seen bodies of those who had died—of course, she had, it was part of her job description. Yet, she had never actually seen a person _die_, let alone get shot down. Rachelle knew that such things were going to happen, especially when she became a full agent, but _still_. She was scared. She was sad. She was angry. She was relieved. She was confused. Too many emotions to feel at once to comprehend exactly which emotion was correct to feel. Rachelle wondered if that was exactly why Booth avoided killing anyone on the job and why he was so sensitive about his past of being a sniper.

Cradling her heads in her hands, Rachelle groaned pathetically. Her head was hurting. She had to sit down. So she did. The flaxen-haired female sat herself down on one of the metal stools in the Medico-Lab in the Jeffersonian.

Everyone, but she, Zack, and Brennan had gone home for the day since the case was officially closed. She was waiting for Zack to finish the small of paperwork he had so they could go get ice cream like Rachelle had promised him. Unfortunately, since she had to wait, she had been left alone with her thoughts causing her great frustration.

_I hate this. I shouldn't be acting like…like…like such a child. I mean, I know it's not a good thing when someone is killed, so feeling remorse is natural, but that man was a murderer. He killed his own brother and others! He was about to kill many more!,_ Rachelle long-fingered hands gripped at her short, straight tresses. _Seeley had to shoot him or he would've blown everyone up! Possibly even you, Seeley, and Dr. Brennan! You can't feel bad that Farid, a bad man, died!_ She gritted her teeth and clenched harder at her hair.

Suddenly, a voice called out to her causing her eyes to snap open and for her to jump startled. Releasing her head, she whipped her head around to see a puzzled Zack standing there. "Are you… alright, Rachelle?" he asked hesitantly.

"Uh, I…um…" Rachelle started, but paused and sighed. She placed on a fake smile. "Y-Yeah. I'm fine. Just thinking."

"You must've been thinking very hard from the position you had been in."

"Um, yeah, you could say that."

"As to what you were thinking about?"

Rachelle frowned. "Er…" She quickly changed the subject and got to her feet. "Shall we go get that ice cream I promised you?"

"Uh, yes, but--"

She didn't let the young man finish.

"Great! Let's go! It's just down the street. We gotta hurry, it gets crowded at this hour." Rachelle started out of the laboratory.

"But you didn't answer my question." Zack called out to her, not moving from his spot.

She went rigid and bit her lip. Ever so slowly, her hazel orbs glanced back over her shoulder at him. He was staring at her blankly, waiting for her answer to his previous question. Something about the way he was looking at her made her look away as her index finger got tangled in one of her locks. She didn't want to talk about this, but, at the same time, she felt like she had to. At least to someone. Zack was the only around at the moment and, despite the little amount of time she had known the floppy-haired brunet, she trusted the guy. However, how was shoe going to put how she felt into words Zack understood, especially since _she_ didn't even know how to describe her feelings?

Eventually, she hesitantly and reluctantly asked, looking up at her companion, "Have you ever seen someone die, Zack?"

"My grandmother, on my father's side, when I was twelve." the graduate student answered without hesitation.

"Are you serious?" gasped Rachelle.

"Of course." Zack's brows furrowed. "Someone's death isn't exactly something to joke about."

She shook her head. "N-No. That's not what I meant. I meant…how did it happen?"

"Well, she was quite old; going on ninety-five at that point in time. She was living my family at the time as she refused to go to a nursing home or a hospital. My grandmother was a very strong woman, but old age caught up with her and after while she became immobile, so she remained a couch in our living room. For three days, she was like that. Then, one night, while I was going to the restroom before heading to bead, she choked on her own saliva then, passed away." he explained.

By that point, a hand was over Rachelle's open mouth and her eyes were now a very glassy green. "Oh, Z-Zack. I'm so sorry." she choked out, stepping onto the platform. She placed a hand on his arm.

"Thank you, but apologizes are not necessary. Death is inevitable and she was elderly."

"But--"

"But?"

She shook her head again before hanging it. "Never mind. You're right. Dying is just a part of life—ironically." the female said in a whisper, her hand dropping to her side.

Zack heard her nonetheless, mostly because was nearly two feet away from him, and gave a curt nod. "Yes."

"…H-How did you feel?"

"I beg your pardon? I did not hear what you said, Rachelle." That time, he hadn't heard her despite her close proximity.

She spoke louder, "How did you feel when you saw her die?"

"I find it hard to believe that you were thinking hard about my grandmother dying and how I felt since you didn't know of her or about the situation until this very moment."

"Please, just answer the question."

Zack blinked, a bit taken aback by the shakiness and plead in her voice. He had not yet heard her in such a tone and now that he had, he sort of wished he hadn't. He was not sure why, but the pain and sadness coming from her, struck a chord within him he was not aware existed.

He brushed such things away, nevertheless, and complied, "I felt sad and perhaps, a bit relieved. Sad that she was now gone yet, relieved because she was no longer suffering."

"…I see. What if she had been a bad person? Would you still have felt the same?"

"Rachelle, is there a particular reason as to why you are asking me such things?"

She was silent for a moment, ceasing in the twisting of her hair. Then, she began twisting it again as she gravely confessed, "…I saw someone die for the first time today."

"Mr. Farid Masruk, correct?" Zack said, causing her head to snap to him. "Dr. Brennan informed me of what took place today."

"Oh. I see…"

"Is that what you were thinking so hard about?"

"Unfortunately."

"I don't understand."

Rachelle bitterly laughed, twisting her finger in her hair harder. "I guess I'm not surprised…"

"Excuse me?" He arched a brow.

"Never mind." she shook her head. She turned her back to him. "Let's just go get ice cream, Zack."

Once again, Zack didn't move and stopped the blonde. "Is what had occurred upset you, Rachelle?"

"…Yes…"

"You shouldn't be."

"Why? Should a person not mourn when one dies?"

"Of course a person should. Death, despite inevitable, is a solemn circumstance. However, Mr. Masruk was not someone close to you nor was he a good person. His death had to be done in order to save many others."

"He was still a human being, Zack." Rachelle argued, facing him again.

"True. Yet, is a person really allowed to be called human if they take another's life?" Zack countered simply.

Shocked at his statement, Rachelle stared at the forensic anthropologist. She knew he was bright, but he wasn't very good with words, especially in such delicate situations because of his lack of social knowledge. She was speechless.

Zack, noting her lack of speech, went on, "You told me the first time we met that you want to became an FBI Agent in order to change the world for the better. Thus, wouldn't that include ridding the world of the bad to save the good?"

"Y-Yes?" she hesitantly said, flabbergasted by the words coming out of the genius' mouth.

"Then, in those terms, Farid would be considered bad."

"…Yes?"

"Agent Booth killed a man, who was going to kill many others, many innocent people. The same people you have vowed to protect. Do you understand, Rachelle?"

Sighing deeply, she looked away. "Yes, I understand. His death was necessary, so there is no need to have such conflicting emotions."

"Correct," he nodded. "But I suppose there is nothing wrong with feeling mournful."

"Huh?" Rachelle turned to him. Hadn't he just said that her mixed feelings were foolish?

"Despite how illogical your feelings are, I assume they are what makes a person a good person."

"What are you getting at, Zack?"

"I am saying you are good person. Illogical, yes, but good."

For a moment, the FBI intern said nothing. Ultimately, though, she grinned—a genuine smile. "Thank you. How sweet of you to say." she said touched, her cheeks a very light pink. No one had ever said that she was a good person before. Illogical, yes, but never good.

He became flustered at her smile seeing it had returned. "I-I wasn't being sweet. I was b-being honest." he stuttered.

Her smile grew, not being able to stop now. "That makes it even sweeter."

"But--" the brown-eyed man began to protest, but faltered when Rachelle placed a tender peck upon his cheek.

She pulled back, gazing up at him, leaving her hand on his shoulder. "Thank you, Zack. Really." she whispered gratefully, affectionately.

"Um… y-you're welcome, Rachelle." he choked out, his face burning. Had his heart skipped a beat?

"Come on now. I still owe you ice cream and I could really use a vanilla cone myself." Rachelle hooked her arm with his.

"Uh, r-right." came just a numb nod.

Laughing with a shake of her head, Rachelle pulled Zack out of the lab.


	9. Chapter 9: The Boy in the Tree

_I know this is short, but I just had to get a chapter out as I realized it has been more than a week since I last posted. Thus, here is chapter nine. Big thanks to those who favored and reviewed this story--it makes me so incrediably happy! Please, keep it up, people! I love hearing from you! Hoepfully, I'll try getting chapter ten out sooner next time around--that is if I don't get caught up in reading the eleven Kathy Reich (the auther of the novels that inspired the show Bones) books my great aunt got me. Anyway, here is chapter nine! Enjoy!_

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**Chapter Nine: The Boy in the Tree**

"Angela, do you know where Mr. Floppy-Haired-Genius is?" questioned Rachelle as she popped her little blonde head into Angela's office one afternoon.

The beautiful long-haired artist lifted her eyes from her sketchpad as she sat on her couch. She peered to the younger and smaller female with furrowed brows. "Are you talking about Zack?"

"Yeah, that's him. Where is he at? I can't find him anywhere." Rachelle admitted, crossing her arms over her blue-shirted chest—a top that added to her casual attire.

Angela wasn't surprised to see the young woman in a very loose and comfortable outfit as it seemed to fit the girl.

Adorning her torso was a blue collared shirt with a few buttons undone at the top. Over that was her usual leather, hooded jacket. She also wore black jeans and her normal black boots with the small heel and buckles. As well, her shoulder-length hair was in a messy bun—her hair was always up when she was working.

Either way, Angela was happy to see Rachelle for various reasons. One, because it distracted her from the tedious work she had been busying herself with for a good hour and a half. Two, because it would give her the first human contact she had had since she started work and she desperately wanted someone to talk to. And third, Rachelle was there to see Zack, which meant something good in her mind.

Angela smiled sweetly. "Well, how about we go find him together then because I cannot stand the work I'm doing right now." she offered, placing her sketchpad aside and getting to her feet.

"Huh?" the FBI intern tilted her head to the side quizzically.

"Never mind, Rach. Let's go find Zack, shall we?" Angela gently grabbed the other female's hand and dragged her out of the office. Rachelle just allowed her to pull her along.

They stepped onto the platform of the Medico-Logical Lab of the Jeffersonian to see that Hodgins was the only one upon it. It seemed that the bearded man was watching something from afar with much intent. Angela and Rachelle walked up to him to see that he was watching none other than Zack—suitcases of equipment on each side of him—and some strange bleach blonde looked like they were having a heated discussion, but that didn't matter to Rachelle at the moment. There were more important things to worry about.

"Oh, there he is. Jesus. That should've been the first place I looked." Rachelle rolled her eyes, starting towards the male and female at the entrance. However, Hodgins and Angela briskly caught each of her arms and pulled her back.

Making a face, she glanced back at them. "Yo. What's up?"

"He's with a girl." Hodgins told her, motioning to the lighter blonde woman speaking to Zack.

"And that's supposed to mean _what_ to me?"

"Give him a minute or you'll interrupt them." Angela pointed out.

"But--" Rachelle began to protest, but was cut off by Angela asking Hodgins a question, "Who is she anyway?"

"Naomi from Paleontology." Hodgins answered. "She slept with Zack about a month ago and hasn't returned any of his calls since."

"Oh. Poor Zack." Angela said with a frown.

Rachelle's comment of "What a bitch." caused the other two to peer to her with arched eyebrows.

Rachelle agreed that Zack's love problem was truly sad and she felt bad for him. Nevertheless, "And on most cases I'd let Zack work his problem out yet, if I don't get his ass and mine in Seeley's car in the next minute, Seeley is gonna have a bitch fit." She didn't want to seem insensitive yet, as someone who took her job very seriously, she thought work came before personal issues. Not to mention, the fair-haired female wanted to avoid a scolding from her mentor.

"What are you talking about, kid?" inquired Hodgins, looking down at her strangely.

"We have a case in Virginia."

"We do? Why didn't you say so?" Hodgins and Angela cried at the same exact time. Hodgins averted his attention to his best friend below and shouted, "ZACK! You gotta go!"

Zack peered to the three, a bit startled by their presence. That just allowed Naomi to bolt past him—not a good sign as Angela pointed out. Noticing, the brunet genius tried calling out to her, but saw no point in doing so when Hodgins, Angela, and Rachelle came up to him.

"She told me to take a hint." Zack admitted sounding confused and crestfallen once they stood by his sides.

All three of his friends winced. "Take a hint" were amongst those certain three-word-sentences that no one wanted to hear when it came to relationships.

Zack continued, "I asked her what hint and she said if she told me it wouldn't be a hint anymore—it would be a statement." He faced Angela while Hodgins forced the equipment suitcases into the graduate student's hands. "I understand the actual words, but I do not comprehend their meaning." he told the artist.

Angela tried offering a comforting smile. "I'm sorry, sweetie." was all she could say.

"I don't understand." His brown-hued eyes glanced to each of the three faces around him. "She told me to ask my friends…if I had any."

"Rough deal, man." Hodgins patted the other male's back. His sounded apologetic, but from how he was pushing Zack out the door hurriedly made his comment sound less sincere.

"What do I do?" Zack queried, his soft voice desperate.

"I'm sorry, Zacko, but now is not the time for love advice. _We havta go_." Rachelle stated, pushing her companion out the door with two hands placed on his back.

"But--" he started.

"_Later_. Do you want Seeley to kill us?" she cut him off.

Not particularly liking the idea of Booth killing him or Rachelle and remembering he had an important job to do, Zack said nothing more and permitted Rachelle to keep pushing him out of the Jeffersonian. Hodgins and Angela waved to the two youths, shouting, "Have fun, you guys! Bring us back a case!"

"I'm really sorry for being pushy, Zacko, but you know how Seeley gets." Rachelle said to her companion as they descended the front stairs of the Jeffersonian. Zack just nodded. Strangely, Zack did know. Booth was a stern man and seemed to have low patience when it came to a schedule and squints being slow.

They approached the SUV that was out front and just as they were about to pile into the vehicle, Booth leaned out the window. "_Finally_! _What_ were you two doing?" he asked, glaring at the intern and graduate student.

Zack and Rachelle quickly exchanged looks. The male opened his mouth to answer. Rachelle beat him to the punch though and said with a completely straight face, "Lab blew up. Huge mess. Big tragedy." No one knew how to response to that and Rachelle didn't care, she just opened the door and ushered Zack into the car.

Things just weirder from there and it wasn't Rachelle's doing.

Once everyone got in and Booth started the car to pull away from the Jeffersonian, Zack leaned forward and turned to the other male of the car, "You're good with women, right? I mean they seem to like you."

"Good morning." Brennan greeted as if she hadn't heard Zack's statement.

Booth ignored both of them and said aloud, "Now, a body was discovered on the property of some big prestigious private school in Virginia. The sheriff is pretty much…okay, but since this school has a lot of pull in the county, I think she's just trying to dump everything on us to avoid complications."

_I'm officially in the Twilight zone…_, Rachelle thought to herself, shaking her head at the three other people in the car.

Zack tried again. "You call after every sexual encounter, correct? Because it's the right thing to do, right?" he asked of Booth.

"Okay!" Booth exclaimed, annoyed all over again. "When you enter this car, it is a no-sex-talk zone. It is a work-zone, so can we keep our minds on the case assigned to us?"

"I thought "good morning" was the proper thing to say. You tell me I shouldn't be so task-oriented all the time and to interact with other betters. Now, you're telling me to focus on work." Brennan complained offended, sounding a tad confused too.

Booth scowled. "We have a forty-five minute ride, how about we ride in silent meditation until we get to the school?" he suggested, trying to keep calm.

No one, but Booth was happy about that yet, said nothing. Brennan rolled her eyes and peered out her window. Zack sighed in frustration and collapsed back in his seat beside Rachelle. Booth shook his head, finally relieved to have silence. Rachelle, who had been quiet the entire time, patted Zack's knee comfortingly before staring out the window.

_This is going to be a __**long**__ ride…, Rachelle_ thought to herself.

**~*--*~**

Ultimately, Booth, Brennan, Rachelle, and Zack arrived at Hanover Private School, a prestigious academy in the middle of nowhere in Virginia. Seeing that they were approaching the front gates of the school, Zack leaned forward again and asked, "Can I talk _now_?"

"No." Booth instantly answered.

"That's not fair." Brennan scolded her partner then, glanced back at her protégé and smiled. "We're here so yes."

Zack opened his mouth, Booth cut him off quickly, "This is my car, so my rules. _No. Talking_."

"But--" the young genius started to speak again, but was cut off again. However, it was by a different male that time. It was by a dark-haired man in a black suit and sunglasses. "Hello. Can I help you?"

"Yeah. Agent Seeley Booth with the FBI. The Sheriff called in about a body." Booth claimed.

"Right." the other suited man curtly nodded. He scoped the vehicle. "And they are?"

"Dr. Temperance Brennan of the Jeffersonian, I am a forensic anthropologist." Brennan answered promptly.

Zack leaned forward. "I am her crack assistant, Zack Addy."

Rachelle leaned forward, too, resting on Zack's back a little—he blushed a little at the contact, but ignored it as much as possible. She pointed to Booth while introducing herself, "And I'm Seeley's marvelous intern, Rachelle Cornwell."

"I see. Do you have I.D.?" the guard of Hanover questioned. Nodding, Zack, Rachelle, and Brennan handed the man their I.D.s, which he checked and then, returned to their rightful owners. "All right. Welcome to Hanover Private Academy. I will get you another guard to guide you to the designated location." the guard told them all.

"Whoa, whoa. We don't need a guide. Just allow us access and we'll get there ourselves." Booth said.

"Absolutely not. This institution educates and houses many students that the government is trying very hard to protect. Every outsider must be guided by a member of the security staff. I will get you a guard."

With that, that other man left having Booth glare at his back the entire time. When the other male was completely gone, Booth's eyes landed on the marble sign in front of the school holding the school's name, the school's crest, and a phrase in Latin.

Of course, Booth had to recite it while poking fun at it, "Heh. What's that supposed to mean? "_No outsiders allowed_.""

Brennan and Zack looked to the FBI Agent strangely. ""_Take with me all the things I carry_."" they corrected him as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Booth made a face, probably feeling stupid and embarrassed. In the back, behind her hand, Rachelle tried stifling her snickers.

After that, a security guard—looking a lot like the other man from before—approached the car, introduced himself, and told Booth to follow his car to the back part of the school. Booth did as he was told.

Once they reached the destination, all four got out of the vehicle where a female police officer, and two well-dressed men, who looked very disgruntled, were waiting for them. Introductions were shared and then, the police officer, the head of security, and Headmaster Ronson led Booth, Brennan, Zack, and Rachelle through a small patch of woods.

Eventually, they arrived at a small opening. Brennan's brows furrowed confused, "I thought I was here to examine a body. Where is it?" Rachelle and Zack looked just as curious.

"Uh…Bones?" Booth hesitantly called, his voice sounding a bit disturbed. They turned to him. He pointed upwards. "Look…above you."

Arching a brow, Brennan, Rachelle, and Zack glanced up. There, hanging by a noose, was a decomposing body with dark, flimsy hair and crows pecking at its head. Rachelle's jaw almost dropped yet, stopped herself and her face contorted in disgust—she wasn't sure how long it was going to take for her to get use to seeing such things. Naturally, Brennan and Zack were unfazed.

"Zack, get some still. Make sure to avoid using the flash as much as possible; we don't want to disrupt anything." Brennan told her graduate student calmly as she yanked on a pair of surgical gloves. Zack took out his camera and began snapping pictures.

"Right," sarcastically grumbled the Headmaster from behind Booth and Rachelle. "Because we wouldn't want to disturb the flesh-eating birds or anything." Booth and Rachelle exchanged glances and shook their heads.

"Hey, Seeley. If you decide this is a suicide it becomes my territory, right?" the police officer questioned to the handsome male, excitement in her voice.

"Actually, the one who gets to decide that is _me_." Brennan curtly remarked, her bright blue eyes examining the dangling body above her head.

The officer frowned, but motioned for people to step back. "Let's give the lady some room." she pushed the Headmaster and head of security back.

Booth placed a hand on Brennan's shoulder to whisper in her ear, "What did I tell you about trying to get along with the locals?"

"I don't like county sheriffs. They're elected officials. They're just trying to get reelected instead of finding the truth." Brennan countered. Then, her eyes narrowed as she heard a slight cracking noise; a noise no one else heard since it was so soft.

Soon, the head lolled to the side before breaking off from the neck. Swiftly, Brennan stepped forward and easily caught the head. "I'm going to need a plastic bag." she announced nonchalantly.

Rachelle grabbed one from within Zack's equipment bag before handing it to Zack, who handed it to his mentor. "I got all the stills I could, Dr. Brennan." he informed the anthropologist.

"Good. Move on to video." she nodded, sliding the head into bag she had received.

Just nodding, the younger genius did as he was told. That was until everyone heard for more cracking, louder that time--thus, the reasoning as to why everyone had heard it. Booth's head snapped up towards the body and his eyes widened. "Hey! Look out!" he cried out. There was a snapping noise and the body came toppling down from the branch it was previous hanging on. Quickly, everyone moved out of the way.

Well, _almost _everyone…

Booth had to yank his young intern back to his side by her collar. The body hit the ground where Rachelle had been previously standing with a dull "THUMP". She cried out startled, stumbling backwards. Everyone looked at her oddly, a little suprised--she always seemed so composed.

Noticing, the blonde girl blushed and scowled embarrassed. "Wha-What? Y-You never heard a g-girl yelp before? It's n-not every day th-that ya see a body basically fall fr-from th-the sky!" she snapped.

Brennan and Zack said nothing, but Booth, still holding his protégé, leaned into her and whispered a bit teasingly, "You screamed. Not yelped."

"_Shut up, Seeley_." she hissed, becoming even more flushed.

"I'm going to need a bigger bag." announced Brennan, snapping Booth and Rachelle's attention to her, the bagged head still in her hands.


	10. Chapter 10: Suicide or Homicide?

_Okay, kiddies. Here's chapter ten. Since chapter nine was so short, I made this one nice and long. Not to mention, there's a good Zack and Rachelle moment in this--well, more interesting than good; you may hate me for it. ^-^;; Anyway, thank you again to all those who have been favoring and reviewing this story. It's my longest story. Yays! So, please enjoy and review. Thanks! ^-^_

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**Chapter Ten: Suicide or Homicide?**

Rachelle wasn't a genius, not even close, but when she met certain people, she knew instantly that she was more intelligent than they were. Right now, was one of those times when she was the smarter person. Then again, she probably only felt that way because the head of security and the headmaster of Hanover Prep were starting to get on her nerves. And from the looks of it, the two men were starting to aggravate Booth as well.

"How do you not know when a student of yours has gone missing?" Booth questioned, his deep voice echoing with irritation. He and his intern were following the headmaster and the head of security throughout the institute, asking questions, as they headed to the headmaster's office.

"What do you expect? A lot of people attend this academy. We can't just call everyone's parents and say "Hey. Are you missing a child?". We just can't do that." Headmaster Ronson pointed out as the four people descended a long staircase.

"It would cause a huge panic." the Head of Security added. Booth, Rachelle, Headmaster Ronson, and the Head of Security entered the headmaster large office.

"_Oh_? And discovering a boy's body hanging from a tree doesn't?" Rachelle stated with an arched brow.

The staff members of the school ignored her, which made her scowl. However, her scowl deepened when Booth looked back at her and shot her a look that clearly meant: "Let _me _do the talking and _you _be quiet". Pouting out her bottom lip angrily, Rachelle fell quiet and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I don't really understand what the big deal is," the Head of Security admitted carelessly, standing beside Headmaster Ronson's desk. "This is just a regular case of a depressed kid, who decided to hang himself over vacation. It happens. There's no need for investigation."

"What about the boy's family?" Rachelle piped up only to receive a warning look from Booth. She pressed her lips into a thin line.

Booth glanced back to the other gentlemen with a stern expression. He rested his fists on his waist. "What about the boy's family? Don't you think they have the right to know whether their son was killed or not?" he questioned.

"How can you even be sure it was a murder?" challenged Headmaster Ronson.

"Let's just say we have people who are exceptionally good at forming such conclusions." Booth said. Rachelle just nodded, not wanting to get glared at again.

"Look," the Head of Security began with a frustrated sigh. "We try very hard to keep our students safe, but it is very difficult to watch over every single student. There are students who have higher priority over others. It's a tragedy, but a suicide is a suicide. There's nothing we can do."

"What makes you so sure it's a suicide?" Booth mocked the headmaster. Before either of the men could answer, Booth's phone went off. Reaching into his pocket, the FBI Agent checked the caller ID, pressed the "Answer" button and pressed it to his ear.

He held up an index finger to the private school staff, "Hold that thought." To the person on the phone, "Agent Seeley Booth. Talk to me."

"_We'll have the identity within the hour._" came Dr. Brennan's formal, professional voice on the other end.

"Wow. That was quick." Booth whistled impressed causing the blonde beside him to arch a brow quizzically. He just mouthed "Bones" to her making her nod in understanding.

Brennan went, asking, "_Do you know what a cochlear implant is?_"

"Yeah. A hearing aid." Booth nodded.

"_Actually, no. It's a bit more complicated than that. And--"_

Her partner cut her off as his dark eyes wandered to the Headmaster and Head of Security, who were watching him suspiciously, "That's great."

"_Wha-What? Well, uh, either way, it's not a suicide._"

"Great, great. You can tell me all the boring details later."

"…_Are you drunk?_"

"Mmhm. Great." Booth just nodded.

Rachelle's brows furrowed, watching her mentor incredulously. _Is Seeley high or something?_, she wondered.

"Talk to you later." With that, Booth hung up and put his phone away. Everyone was staring at him with confused faces, especially Rachelle. He turned to the men. "I'm gonna need the complete enrollment list of every student attending. As well as a complete list of staff and faculty."

"That'll take forever." Headmaster Ronson protested.

"Just get it done and fax it to the bureau." Booth retorted, turning on his heel and leaving. "Kid, we're leaving. Move it."

"Yes, sir!" Rachelle jogged off after him, out of the office. Once the door was closed behind them in the hallway, she turned the tall man. "You really hate prep schools, huh?"

"And you don't?" he asked with a raised brow.

"I hate the people more, but I have a legit reason. I actually attended a prep school." she admitted as she followed him towards the exit of the school.

"Oh. That's right you did." Booth nodded. "Back in junior high, right?"

"Yep."

"And you got kicked out in your first week _why_ again?"

"It was two semesters for your information and I got kicked out for a harmless prank."

Booth looked back at her over his broad shoulder. "Knowing you, it was only harmless in your mind." he pointed out.

"Flushing the headmaster's toupee _was_ completely harmless! No one was harmed during the act!" Rachelle said defensively. Then, smirked at the memory. "Except maybe the headmaster's pride."

The dark-haired man rolled his chocolate orbs. "I swear I can see horns sprouting from your head sometimes, kid." he sighed, making his way to his SUV.

The twenty-two-year-old huffed. "Reeeeal funny, Seeley." she said sarcastically. "Besides, if you had attended that school, you'd try anything to get expelled, too."

"And you wonder why I hate prep schools." Booth commented, settling in his car.

"Not every school is like that hellhole." Rachelle buckled her seatbelt in the passenger seat. Her hazel eyes peered back to Hanover Prep School outside her window. "Then again, from how things are going at the moment, this school isn't doing much to help private schools' reputation."

"My point _exactly_." her mentor smirked triumphantly. That was before revving the engine and pulled the vehicle away from the school.

**~*--*~**

"Okay, Bones! What do you mean it's not a suicide?" Booth's booming voice echoed throughout the Jeffersonian Medico-Lab as he and Rachelle entered the lab. They began up the stairs to step onto the platform only to set an alarm off. The both of them jumped. "Whoa, whoa! What's going on? What did we do?" Booth asked, holding his hands up while Rachelle snapped her head around.

"Can't have just anyone come in here and contaminant all the "boring details"." Brennan claimed from her hunched position over a body—most likely the one from the tree—on a metal autopsy table. She sounded a tad hostile towards the agent.

"I got it." Zack appeared, waving around his ID card. He swiped it causing the beeping to stop.

"The" boring details"--" Booth started only to scowl and growl at Zack, who was gently ushering Rachelle and Booth up onto the platform. "_Don't_ push me, kid." he hissed at the other male.

Zack frowned, offended. Offering a small smile, Rachelle patted his shoulder and mouthed at "thank you". Zack just nodded—feeling just a little bit better.

Booth returned his attention back to Brennan as he, Rachelle, and Zack filed onto the platform. "The "boring details" was my way of hinting at you to stop talking." the ex-sniper told the auburn-haired anthropologist. "I want my own ID card." he added, standing beside her.

"Well, I want my own gun." Brennan argued.

"I do, too." Rachelle added. She'd much prefer a weapon than a silly card.

"Shut up, kid." Booth snapped then, looked back to the older woman. "And the last time you had a gun, you shot someone."

"He was a bad guy." Rachelle and Zack pointed out in unison.

"Shut up, _both_ of you." said Booth to the youths, who made faces. "Okay, now, who's our victim?"

"Oh? You want all the "boring details"?" rejoined Brennan as she walked around the autopsy table to stand beside it.

"Get over it, will you?" Booth sighed deeply in frustration.

"Don't call me Bones." Brennan retorted, moving a camera over the neck of the body, which appeared on a screen near the table.

"We traced the cochlear implant to Dr. Maurice Ledbetter, who placed it in a boy named, Nester Olivos." announced Zack.

"Nester Olivos," Booth repeated to his student.

Nodding, Rachelle took out the enrollment list that the school had sent to the bureau and flipped through it. "Ah ha. Here we go." Rachelle said before reading off what was printed on the paper, "Here on a student VISA. Only son of the Venezuelan Ambassador."

"All right. Great." Booth rubbed his hands together. "What else?" That was directed to the squints.

"Want all the "boring details"?" mocked Brennan.

"_Let it go, Bones_."

"_Don't call me Bones_." Brennan looked to the screen showing the boy's broken neck. "The hyoid was broken." Everyone gathered around the screen.

"Well, yeah. Strangulation. Of course the hyoid is broken. That's self-explanatory." Booth said.

"Yes, but he was an adolescent. That only occurs in adults." Zack said.

"There's a difference?" asked Rachelle curiously.

"In younger people, the hyoid is more flexible, unbreakable." Brennan answered logically.

"So maybe the kid had Venezuelan brittle bone disease or something." shrugged Booth.

Rachelle blinked. _Is there such a thing?_ The weird looks her teacher got from the squints answered her question—no, there was no such thing.

Booth glanced between Zack and Brennan's faces innocently. "What? I'm just trying to help." He cleared his throat. "So he was murdered?"

"I'm not saying that because I don't have all the facts. I don't know." Brennan admitted.

Both Booth and Brennan's phones went off. They checked the caller IDs and exchanged glances. Brennan turned to leave, sliding off her blue lab coat. Booth started after her. Furrowing her brows, completely lost as to what was happening, Rachelle called out to Booth, "Yo! Seeley! What's going on? Where are you going?"

"FBI Major Crimes Unit, meeting concerning the case," Booth answered, heading down the steps. Rachelle went to follow, but he stopped her, "And no, you can't come. Interns don't have authorization."

"But--!"

"_Stay, Rachelle._ And don't cause trouble."

Booth and Brennan were gone. Rachelle puckered her brows. "Lame." she complained. _Telling me to stay. What am I? A dog?_

"Um, what's…_lame_?" Zack inquired of his blonde companion. "Lame" was not a word that should come out of his mouth too often.

She turned to him and sighed. "I've done far more than any intern at the bureau. I'm basically an agent. The fact that I can't have a gun I understand, but I don't even have permission to go to a stupid meeting? Ridiculous."

"Yes. That does seem a bit unfair." nodded Zack, agreeing. "Unfortunately, I get treated in the same fashion. Despite my intellect and being in the middle of two doctorates, I don't get to do too much either."

Rachelle grinned lightly and crossed her arms. "I don't know how you do it, Zack Addy, but just a few words from you makes me feel better."

The brunet blushed and rubbed his neck awkwardly. He avoided eye-contact. He didn't know why her words made him happier, mostly because he wasn't sure how he could make anyone feel better, but they did. "I could say the exact same of you, Rachelle." he muttered.

Rachelle's smile grew more, as her cheeks turned a very faint pink. "Thanks." She kissed his cheek, which she always did, which always made him flustered. She grabbed his arm. "Now, let's go see what Curly is up to. I don't want Seels to think I was just fooling around while I'm here." she pulled him towards Hodgins' office—a small smile of Zack's face.

**~*--*~**

Apparentally, Brennan had announced that what had happened to the boy was officially murder. Thus, Rachelle, Zack, and Hodgins were busying themselves upon the platform waiting for Booth and Brennan to return from the meeting with Agent Santana and the meeting Nester's parents. They were going to come back to pick up Rachelle and take her back to the bureau to speak with the school psychiatrist, the headmaster, and the head of security with them-–she had authorization to do that.

Rachelle was reading—Brennan's book to be exact. Zack was examining the x-rays of the body. And Hodgins was checking on particulates. Everyone was hard at work—well, Rachelle was reading, but she was listening at the same time in case her companions found anything.

"When Naomi told me to take a hint, what did she mean?" Zack suddenly said.

"_Oooh_." Hodgins flinched. The bug and dirt specialist looked back at Rachelle, who exchanged the same look of hesitance and sympathy.

Naturally, Zack caught those looks and frowned. "What did I do wrong?" he asked desperately.

"I wasn't what you did, it is more like what you _didn't _do." Hodgins pointed out.

"Where do you learn this stuff?" Zack asked.

"It's just something you learn by doing. Like driving a car, riding a bike, and pleasing a woman." stated Hodgins.

"I don't know how to drive or ride a bike."

Rachelle's eyeborws shot up in surprise. _Zack doesn't know how to drive? Or ride a bike?,_ she pondered.

Hodgins' voice brought her back to their conversation. "Or please a woman, apparently."

The younger male shot up from his sheet and moved to his best friend. "I need specific instructions. Particular techniques. Or ways to do certain moves." he said, almost pleadingly.

"I'm not really the guy to talk to about this kind of thing." Hodgins told Zack, getting to his feet with some files.

"Why?" The graduate student's brows became knitted. "You've slept with like ten thousand women."

Hodgins rolled his eyes and faced the younger, but taller man. "Because, Z-man, you and I only work together on a strictly brain basis. You need someone who is better with--" He paused and motioned his hands near Zack's waist. "—_That_ region." He turned on his heel and started to walk away, trying to get away from the conversation as much as possible.

"But--" Zack called after him.

"Blondie, _please_, talk to him!" Hodgins shouted, continuing to walk away.

Rachelle, who had been trying to tune out the awkward and personal conversation, jumped and exclaimed with flushed cheeks. "Wha-What?! Why?! This is a guy thing!" she exclaimed, her voice a bit high-pitched from embarrassment.

"You're close enough!"

"Jackass!"

Rachelle, still red in the face, huffed. Then, felt Zack's puppy dog brown eyes on her. She blushed harder and reluctantly looked to him. Rachelle loved talking to the young man and was willing to talk to him about anything yet, their sex lives were something she wanted to discuss—_maybe_—when they knew each other better.

"You really need someone to talk to about this, don't you?" she hesitantly asked.

"Yes. I did something wrong and I wish to correct it." Zack gave a curt nod.

Rachelle tucked her hair behind her ears. "Sex isn't a math equation, Zack." she told him. "There isn't one way to do it. It really depends on the person."

"I don't understand." He shook his head with furrowed brows. She sighed deeply, raking a hand through the locks of her hair that was not tied up.

"I…can't really explain it to you. It's not really something I can, at least not in one sitting. Besides, I'm not...really an expert on sex myself." she confessed. This conversation was just getting weirder and weirder. Not to mention, awkward.

"Why? You're pleasantly appealing young woman." Zack said, confusion filling his voice. He grabbed a stool and sat before her. "I'm sure you've had plenty of partners."

Jumping, Rachelle's entire pale face turned bright red. She wasn't sure if she was embarrassed because Zack had said she was good-looking or because of the fact he thought she had had a lot of partners—she preferred the first. She bit her lip. "Uh…that's n-not true. I've…only been with one man." she reluctantly admitted, hanging her head and scrunching up her shoulders a little.

"One man?" Zack arched a brow. That had been something he hadn't expected.

"…Y-Yeah." Rachelle stiffly nodded. "My boyfriend of four years. He's the only man I have ever been with."

"Boyfriend? You have a boyfriend?" That had been something else that he hadn't expected.

That time, though, it stirred something inside the young genius that did not feel entirely too pleasant. Was it hurt? Was it disappointment? Was it jealousy? No. That wasn't possible, especially jealousy. Such emotions were irrational, illogical. There was no reason for him to feel that way. He had suspected that she had had various sexual partners, so it was only natural for Rachelle to have a boyfriend. But for four years? He being the only man she's been with?

Rachelle grew worried. Zack hadn't spoken for nearly three minutes. He was just staring at her. She couldn't read his face as it was blank, like it normally was, but there was something in his big eyes that made her concerned. "Zacko? Zack?" she called, reaching out to touch his arm.

Except, at his name, he snapped out of his thoughts and shot up from his seat. "I'm sorry. I-I have to continue working." he announced automatically. "Dr. Brennan will be mad if I slack off."

"Uh…r-right." Rachelle apprehensively nodded, looking up at him worriedly. _Is he alright?, _she wondered. Had it been something she said?

Before she could ask, her cell phone off. She jumped startled then, calmed, fishing out her phone. It was Booth. "That's Seeley. He and Dr. Brennan are here to pick me up." she announced to her friend.

"Right." Zack nodded.

"I…should go. See you later." Rachelle rose to her booted feet.

He just robotically nodded again. "Right." The twenty-four-year-old returned to sitting at the table he was originally at to look at the x-rays.

Frowning, Rachelle sighed and turned away. She headed towards the exit. As she made her way out, she passed Hodgins. Noticing her confused and distressed face, Hodgins grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "You okay, Blondie?" he asked in genuine concern. He briefly looked back at Zack then, to girl before him. "Did Zack say something?"

"N-No." Rachelle shook her head. "I-I think it was something _I _said." With that, she walked away.

Hodgins watched her go, completely lost. He peered back to his best friend on the platform. What had happened between those two?

**~*--*~**

With the head of security, the headmaster, and the psychiatrist of Hanover Prep School in Booth's office, Rachelle tried to the best of her ability to push her thoughts and concerns of her conversation with Zack to the back of her mind. She had to pay attention, she had to listen.

"As the school psychiatrist, I am bound by patient confidentiality to not share specifics of Nester Olivos condition unless you have a warrant or a signed permission slip from the parents." the psychiatrist, who happened to be a very thin, dark-haired and skinned woman. "However, I can say that Mr. Olivos was at a high risk of suicide."

"But there were no indications of anti-depressants in his system." pointed out Brennan from Rachelle's right—Booth was on her right, at his desk.

"I can only give recommendations to the parents." Dr. Petty—the psychiatrist—stated.

"So he was depressed enough to hang himself?" Booth asked.

"He was alienated by culture, by language, by his disability, by his own social awkwardness.. Thus, I'd say yes. That is a very good possibility." she nodded. Booth, Brennan, and Rachelle exchanged glances.

"There you go. Like we said, a depressed student hangs himself over the holiday. End of story." the head of security said.

"Thank you, Dr. Petty." Headmaster Ronson said to the woman dismissively. Nodding, she left the office.

"How does the only son of an Ambassador go missing for two weeks and no one notices?" Booth inquired, motioning with his hand.

"He was vacationing with his roommate." the Head of Security responded. He went into his brown coat pocketed and pulled out a folded piece of paper. The man handed it to Booth. "We received a waiver from his parents to give him permission to go." Booth took it and looked it over.

"I've been to Venezuela. It's a very unstable country. There's a high possibility of rebellion against anyone with political standing." Brennan explained.

"Maybe, but you don't seriously think a Venezuelan hit squad came all the way to America to kill a kid, do you?" he argued skeptically.

"Like the doctor said," Headmaster Ronson started annoyed, standing. "It is a normal case of a depressed boy killing himself. It's just a suicide, not a Tom Clancy novel."

"Yeah. Well, we'll start interrogating Nestor's roommate tomorrow morning." Booth admitted boldly as the two men started out. That caused Headmaster Ronson and the Head of Security to cease in their steps.

The men looked to one another then, back at the two FBI employees and the forensic anthropologist, who were all smirking. The Headmaster shook his head while the other man said, almost challengingly, "It's your investigation."

Booth just grinned widely.


	11. Chapter 11: Liar, Liar, Everywhere

_Hey, everyone. I am soooooooo sorry for the delay on this chapter. A lot went on that delayed me in completeing it. First, I scrtached my cornea last weekend--thankfully, not my good eye--and then, this weekend, I was on the border of having a bacterial infection. Anyway, I'm better now and I finally completed this chapter. I'll try getting chapter twelve out as soon as possible. Thank you all for being so patient, reviewing the past chapter, favoriting, and watching this story. Thank you so much for the support. Love ya all! Now, please enjoy and review. Thankies._

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: Liar, Liar, Everywhere**

The next day, Rachelle and Brennan watched Booth interrogate Nestor's roommate, who was with his parents and lawyer from behind a two-way mirror at the bureau. The women waited patiently as he spoke with the platinum blonde-haired boy. Both wanting to learn how Booth read those they interrogated, hoping to be able to do so themselves in the near future.

"You and Nestor were roommates for three months, correct?" Booth questioned Tucker, using his professional, interrogating voice..

"Yes, sir." the adolescent nodded.

"And you invited him up to Nova Scotia with you for the two week break, right?"

"We have a home there on Cape Benton. Plenty of room." Tucker's mother stated.

"Then, he decided to go to Venezuela for the remainder of the vacation." Tucker admitted softly.

Booth perched himself on the table in the middle of the room, sitting very close to the young man. "What did the other kids say about Nestor, Tucker?" he inquired.

"Well, he used to be deaf so he couldn't exactly…" the boy couldn't really put it into to words. He frowned. "A lot of the kids called him a retard because of it."

"Tucker, please don't say retard." his mother scolded.

"I never used it, Mom! The other kids did! I swear!" her son replied in defense. He peered back to Booth. "He went to church every Sunday, even when no one told him to. Kids thought that was weird."

"I see. Nestor had a girlfriend?" Booth asked.

"There was a girl he liked, but I can't give you her name." Tucker shrugged. "He never told me who."

Booth shook his head then, stared straight at the boy—a look he always used to make people squirm. "Y'know, Tucker, lying to an FBI agent is a federal offense." he warned in a low tone.

"Agent Booth," Tucker's lawyer warned from the other end of the table.

"An email was sent from Nova Scotia to his parents that he was having a great time." Booth's eyes, now almost black, narrowed. Tucker a little in his seat as the taller and older man loomed over him. "Strange thing is, he was already dead when it was sent. Care to explain that?"

"I'd advise Tucker to not answer that." the lawyer claimed dully.

"No, Dona." Tucker's father said. "If Tucker knows something, he should say it."

Nonetheless, his son said nothing. He just stared up at Booth intimidated. Tucker's mother frowned. "Tucker!" she scolded.

Biting his lip, he hung his head. "It was a dodge."

"There we go." Booth stood. He was satisfied that he was now getting somewhere, but kept his face calm and collected. The short-haired man sat down in his own chair across from the family. "You backed him up so he could be with the girl." Booth said.

"Yeah." Tucker nodded.

"Tucker!" his mother cried, aghast.

"What?! I'm sorry, but he begged me!" he exclaimed.

"What girl, Tucker?" Booth asked.

"I told you, I don't know. I thought he made her up." Tucker admitted. "I just wrote the email, _that's it_."

Booth remained silent and stared at the boy, hoping to get more yet, that seemed to be it. Sighing deeply, he dismissed the family. They left and Booth peered back at the glass, looking to Rachelle and Brennan. The women exchanged glances, thinking the same thing: _Now what?_

**~*--*~**

They were at a loss.

Nestor's roommate gave them very little and Angela's reenactment virtual machine kept giving them scenarios that just didn't seem to properly explain how Nestor's hyoid broke. Hodgins was still looking at the bugs found on the body and Zack was looking at the x-rays in case they missed even the slightest thing. No one knew if it was a murder or suicide. However, no one wanted to give up. Brennan even seemed to have more vigor to solve the case—maybe it had something to do with Nestor's mother's visit. Either way, Booth suggested they check out Nestor's dorm room. Maybe they'd find some clues there.

Thus, there they were, making their way through Hanover Prep towards the boys' dorms.

"What do you expect to find, Booth?" Brennan asked, walking to the stairs to go to the second level of dormitories.

"Anything. Anything, Bones." Booth answered.

His intern added, following the older people, "Even the tiniest of things could do us some good."

"But--" she began only to stop when she spotted an olive-skinned man descending the carpeted stairs. Booth and Rachelle spotted the man as well. The three exchanged looks, knowing exactly where that man had been: in Nestor's room.

"Hold it right there!" Booth shouted. Of course, the man didn't do that. Instead, with wide eyes, he whipped around and frantically bolted back up the stairs. "Stay here!" Booth told the young women.

"Yeah, right!" they both said, pushing past him and dashing after the man.

Brennan being the faster of the females made it to the room first. Rachelle arrived at the dorm soon after, only to have the door slammed in her face. That was followed by grunting noises, what sounded like fighting, and there was a "THUD". Gasping, Rachelle yanked open the door and rushed inside just as the fallen man got up. Rachelle ran past Brennan, so he wouldn't try attacking the older woman—not again, at least. The man swung at Rachelle. She easily dodged to the side, giving her an opening to her attacker's face. She more than willing took that opportunity. The blonde grabbed his outstretched arm, pulled him forward, so her elbow of her free hand would smash into his nose. Then, she swung her other hand to punch him hard across the face. He stumbled back and fell to the floor unconscious.

Exhaling deeply, Rachelle smirked, proud of her work. Then, she remembered Brennan. The short girl faced the forensic anthropologist, who appeared fairly impressed. "You okay, Dr. Brennan?" she asked worriedly.

"Yeah. You?"

"Same."

That was when Booth appeared and entered the room.

"You two okay?" he questioned.

"Yes." they both nodded. Rachelle added, jamming her dark blue nail-painted thumb in the attacker's direction. "But he's not."

Booth looked past his intern and arched his brows. "Good job." he patted her shoulder, making her beam, before kneeling down at the other male's side. Booth reached into the attacker's suit jacket inner pocket. The agent pulled out a wallet and tossed it to Brennan. "Check his ID."

Brennan opened the wallet, Rachelle looked over her shoulder. "He's an agent of the Venezuelan Embassy." Brennan announced.

She handed Booth the wallet back once he was standing. His brows furrowed. "If he's security then, why did he run?" Booth questioned aloud.

No one had an answer for that.

**~*--*~**

As it seemed, Mr. Camarda was innocent and had been looking through Nestor's room for a valid reason. Or so Mrs. Olivos had said when Mr. Camarda, Rachelle, Booth, and Brennan had appeared in her office at the embassy once Mr. Camarda became conscious. Despite her explanation, it still seemed odd to the group.

Brennan decided to point that out for them, "I still don't understand why Mr. Camarda was searching your son's room."

"I asked him to go to Nestor's room to prove a point. That suicide wasn't the only possibility." Mrs. Olivos explained.

"I get it," Booth spoke up. "You wanted to prove that anyone could get onto the campus and into his room."

"Yes," she nodded. "The prep school keeps informing me that it was a suicide and nothing else was possible."

"And we proved them right," Mr. Camarda stated. He briefly looked to Brennan and Rachelle in the corner of his good eye. "I did not go undetected."

"The school lied to you, Mrs. Olivos." Brennan said, ignoring the look she had received from Mr. Camarda.

"Dr. Brennan already announced that your son's death was a homicide." added Booth.

"…I was misinformed." Mrs. Olivos said softly, sadly. Things were silent for a long moment. Then, she sighed and rose. "Excuse me, I have business to attend to." she stated. Everyone watched her go sympathetically as she exited her large, well-furnished office.

Brennan turned to Mr. Camarda. "Do you think someone from your country killed Nestor?" she queried.

"No. Such people would want to make a statement, not set up a suicide." he shook his head. "Something about all of this…" He spoke in Spanish after that, saying "it stinks".

"Hm. Interesting." she nodded.

"Right. Thanks. Let's go, Bones, Rachelle." Booth tried ushering the woman out of the room. Brennan followed, but Rachelle lagged behind just for a moment.

"Uh, sorry 'bout your face, man." she quickly said to Mr. Camarda, apologetically before jogging after the other two.

~*--*~

**Back at the Medico-Legal Lab:** Hodgins never thought he'd be worried about a certain blonde FBI intern, especially when it came to her friendship—if that was what they had—with Zack. Nonetheless, there he was, checking the drug he had discovered in Nestor's system while watching the young graduate focus unnecessarily hard on Nestor's x-rays. Now, it wasn't unusual to see Zack focus on something in a case so intently, but he had been staring at those x-rays for two hours, just staring with a weird expression—almost like he was trying to distract himself or that something was distracting him. It was starting to freak Hodgins out a little, which made it harder for him to work.

Thus, he decided to do something about it.

"What happened between you and Blondie?" Hodgins bluntly asked the other male across from him.

"…Blondie?" Zack slowly responded, not taking his brown eyes off the x-rays.

"Rachelle, Booth's intern." elaborated Hodgins with a roll of his eyes.

It may have been brief, but Hodgins saw the young man stiffen, just a little. "What about her?" asked Zack.

"What happened between you two earlier?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Hodgins."

"Don't give me that. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"I'm afraid I don't."

Hodgins pinched his nose, trying to control his temper. He swore talking to Zack was like talking a wall—Zack was a genius, but he was so clueless. "_Earlier_. When Booth left Rach here with us. After I left, you two were alone. What happened? Because the kid left looking really upset and you've been acting weird, more so than usual, since she left." Hodgins explained.

Zack was silent for a moment then, "…Nothing. Nothing happened. We just talked."

"I got that much," Hodgins deadpanned. "I mean, _what_ did you two talk about?"

"Rachelle has a boyfriend." finally Zack announced with a dull yet, soft voice. He still wasn't looking at his co-worker.

"Blondie has a what?" Hodgins hadn't quite heard as Zack's voice had been so quiet.

"Rachelle has a boyfriend." Zack repeated, speaking louder.

Hodgins blinked in surprise. He opened his mouth to speak, but Angela's voice chimed in as she stepped onto the platform, "Rach has a boyfriend?"

"Yes." Zack curtly nodded, turning to the olive-toned woman, who now stood beside Hodgins. "They've been dating for four years apparently." Saying such words, seemed to tug at a certain cord within him again that made him uncomfortable. Instantly, not liking the emotion, he pushed it away and remained emotionless.

"Oh." both Hodgins and Angela said in unison before exchanging glances. They were surprised that Rachelle was in a relationship since they never saw her with anyone but Booth and themselves or talked about anyone, but they were more surprised by Zack's reaction to such information—or maybe lack of response.

Furrowing her brows, Angela looked at the graduate student closely. "Does that bother you, Zack?"

"Bother me? In what fashion?' Zack inquired with an arched brow.

Angela frowned. Thus, Hodgins translated, "She means are you jealous that Blondie has a guy?"

"Jealousy is an irrational emotion." stated Zack.

"Maybe," Angela said while adding in her mind, _To you_. "But that doesn't answer our question, Zack. We want to know how _you_, despite logic, feel about Rachelle having a boyfriend."

"Relationships are good for society anthropologically speaking, especially sexual relationships. Though, it's more rational to have more than one partner."

"You're still avoiding the question, Z-man." Hodgins pointed out.

Angela spoke more gently, "Zack, do you like Rachelle?"

"Of course, she is a kind and intelligent person. She makes a very good companion." Zack gave a nod.

Angela sighed while Hodgins scowled. "Now, I think you're doing this on purpose." he retorted annoyed.

Zack tilted his head to the side quizzically. "I don't know what you mean."

"Ange, do something please before I strangle the man." Hodgins rubbed his temple.

Sighing, Angela nodded and grabbed Zack's wrist. "Let's go to my office. We have to talk." she said sweetly with a small smile.

"But I have to--" Zack began to protest, glancing back at the x-rays.

"A few minutes won't hurt. Besides, this is important, too." the artist reassured and pulled him to her office.

**~*--*~**

**At Hanover Prep:** "So what are we doing in here again?" Brennan queried curiously the two FBI employees as they stood in the middle of Nestor and Tucker's dorm within Hanover Prep. It looked like a typical guy's room. Well, a typical room where two boys slept. There were messy selves, action figures, books, magazines, a stereo, two beds, poster, and so on.

"According to teachers and peers, Mr. Olivos was a loner. He attended all his classes and got good grades, but he spent most of his time--" Booth motioned to the entire vicinity of the room with both his hands. "—in here."

"I don't--" began Brennan, but Rachelle cut her off. "He wants you to use anthropology to figure out whether Nestor was suicidal or not." the blonde explained with a smile.

Brennan lightly chuckled. "Um, all right." she shrugged.

The three began scoping the room. Booth looked through the garbage and the women looked through the selves. Brennan looked at a bunch of CDs that were out on a dresser on Nestor's side of the room.

"Well, he liked music." the auburn-haired genius announced, picking up a couple of CDs. "Mostly tracks with a lot of drums and guitars because--"

"Because when he was still deaf he could feel the vibrations in his chest, correct?" Rachelle interjected, a car magazine in her pallid hands, which had multiple rings on them.

Brennan glanced to the younger female with mildly impressed pale green eyes. "Yes. How did you know that?" she asked.

"Rach's sister-in-law is deaf." Booth answered before Rachelle could. Brennan looked to him then, to Rachelle. Rachelle nodded confirming what her mentor had said.

"Oh. Well, yes. Then, he evolved after he got the implant to softer music." Brennan continued, looking through the CDs again. "Seemed he enjoyed classical mostly."

"And enjoyment is the exact opposite of suicide." smiled Booth, holding a metal trash can.

Brenna's brows furrowed. "I don't understand what you're trying to do, Booth. You are so confident that Nestor didn't commit suicide yet, you're trying everything to find evidence that he didn't. It doesn't make sense." she stated.

"It's better to have evidence than nothing." Booth claimed. Then, he lifted up a broken CD. "Like this broken CD for instance." Both women looked at him oddly. The ex-sniper elaborated, "He broke a CD and threw it away. Now, why would he do that? I mean, its flute music, but where's the case?"

Sighing, deciding to humor him, Brennan peered around and spotted a bookcase between door and the bathroom entrance. She pointed to it and the three of them gathered around it. "These CDs are not organized." pointed out the forensic anthropologist.

"That's 'cuz you're a girl. Girls organize things chronologically or numerically. Guys are simpler." Booth said.

Brennan looked at him with arched brows. Rachelle leaned over to her and whispered, "That is just Seeley's way of saying guys are lazy-ass slobs." Brennan tried not to laugh and just grinned.

Booth shot his student a look. "I heard that, kid." he said, which she smiled innocently to. Just rolling his dark orbs, he went on with what he was previously saying, "Anyway, guys organize things in a simpler way. Good stuff to the top left," He pointed to the top left of the self and then traced his finger to the bottom right. "And crap on the bottom right. Ah ha! Here we go!"

Booth pulled out the case that belonged to the broken CD and flipped it open. His brows furrowed. "I don't get it." he muttered, causing Brennan and Rachelle to look over his shoulders. "If he hated the CD, why would he burn it?"

Brennan took it from him. "It's not a CD, it's a DVD." she admitted. Booth and Rachelle looked to one another.

**~*--*~**

Upon discovering that the disc was a DVD, Booth, Brennan, and Rachelle headed back to the Jeffersonian to ask Angela to let them use her TV in her office. Angela allowed such and everyone including her, Zack, and Hodgins gathered in her office to what had been recorded.

As it turned out the tape was just porn. However, that was just at first glance.

"Wait, wait," Brennan called out suddenly. Angela immediately paused the video of the adolescent couple making out. Brennan's bright eyes narrowed and she leaned forward to point at the dark-haired male on the screen. "That's our murder victim."

"Wow. This is some kinky stuff." commented Zack suddenly, causing the majority of the people in the room to peer to him oddly.

Brennan was the only one who seemed to not have heard what her graduate student had said. She turned to Angela. "Ange, I'm going to need stills of this, please. And if you could, time and date this was filmed, that would be great, too." she requested before standing. Angela got up to start working on her task.

Hodgins followed after the artist for an antacid for his heartburn from lunch earlier, but not before turning to Zack and saying, "_That _is not kinky and wild sex. That is very basic, beginner stuff." Zack obviously frowned at that statement.

Brennan turned to Booth, ignoring the other man's statement, "We have to talk to the Headmaster about this."

"Don't need to tell me twice." Booth got up from the couch and started to follow his partner. He didn't even look at her when he called to Rachelle, "Kid, we're moving out."

"Yes, sir. Coming." His intern began to follow, but stopped at the door remembering something. The blonde turned around to look at the remaining person in the office. She bit her lip then, cleared her throat to apprehensively call out, "Zack?"

Blankly, he tore his brown eyes from the TV screen to her. Automatically, Rachelle's index finger twisted into a lock of her hair. "…Later, can we um… talk, please?" she admitted, her voice sheepish—a tone she rarely used.

Silence filled the room for a moment unnerving Rachelle—had she said something _that_ terrible?

Then, "Yes. I would like it if we did." Zack broke the quiet with the simple response.

Rachelle very lightly smiled. "Right." She curtly nodded. With, she turned on her heel and continued after Booth and Brennan.

**~*--*~**

It seemed the squints were quick at getting everything done. That being, it wasn't surprising that just before Rachelle, Booth, and Brennan arrived back at Hanover, Angela had emailed Brennan the pictures she had been asked to get. On the other hand, the headmaster and the head of security's reactions to the photographs were surprising.

"This kind of thing is normal. Kids have sex and tape themselves. Sometimes, they even share them for the heck of it." the headmaster commented, flipping between the pictures.

Rachelle deadpanned. _And you're __**okay**__ with that?_

"Though, it is surprising to see Nestor in these shots." the Head of Security added, flipping through the pictures his co-worker wasn't.

"But it's not surprising to see the girl?" questioned Booth with a raised brow. Headmaster and the Head of Security looked to him with annoyed looks. The agent just returned evenly before asking, "Who is she? Can you give us a name?"

"And if you could, we'd like all the sex tapes you've confiscated from your students." Rachelle added.

"Absolutely not." the Headmaster instantly responded.

"Y'know, I could just call my superior and request to bring you in for lack of cooperation. We have enough evidence here for me to do so." Booth warned with a snide smirk.

"He'll do it." said Rachelle.

Brennan nodded. "She's right. He doesn't like you."

"Excuse me, but the headmaster isn't declining to your request of the tapes." the Head of Security claimed, trying to give a calm and gentle smile—it certainly didn't give that feeling though.

"I think him saying "Absolutely not" defines as declining." argued Brennan with a skeptical expression.

"No, I mean he isn't directly saying it because we do not have the tapes in our possession. Every tape we have ever confiscated is handed over to the State Department." he said.

"Fine then. Call up the Sheriff and tell her to bring us the tapes." Booth stated.

"Of course." the Headmaster nodded stiffly.

"Oh, and we're going to still need that girl's name."

"…Of course. Camden Destry, that is her name."

Booth smirked. "Thank you."

"…You're welcome." the other male said in a strained voice.

**~*--*~**

Upon waiting for Sheriff Roach to bring the tapes they asked for, they called up the Destry family and told them to come to the federal bureau. The family of three arrived and everyone got into their positions—the family and Booth were in the interrogation room and Rachelle and Brennan were behind the two way glass watching closely.

"This is about Nestor Olivos, right? I mean, he's gotten pretty important since his death." innocently questioned the pretty, curly haired girl, who was Camden. She was sitting next to her mother. Her father was across from them.

"Yes," Booth nodded. His face far more serious than usual—Rachelle had a feeling this case was really starting to annoy him, but was trying to cover it. "Were you romantically involved with Mr. Olivos?" he asked.

"What? No." Camden looked up at him skeptically.

"Camden is too young to be in a relationship." her light blonde mother stated.

Rachelle—maybe she imagined it—saw Booth's eye twitch. He snatched up the TV remote to the tiny TV in the room, pulled up a chair and situated himself in it. The ex-sniper pressed the play button and exasperatedly said, "Tell me to stop when you're ready to start telling the truth."

The video of Nestor and Camden began playing and immediately horrified expressions crossed the Destry family's face, especially Camden's. The father attempted to get Booth to stop in desperation, "Agent Booth, I must protest!"

"I'm _tired_ of being lied to, so excuse me for being indelicate." spat Booth icily. Then, he slid his chair around to face Camden. "All right. Now, I want the truth."

'I-I cannot belive he-he t-taped us. I-I loved him." Camden burst into tears and buried her face into her mother's shoulder.

Sighing deeply, Booth rolled his eyes rubbing his temple—that had not been what he wanted to hear. From behind the glass, Rachelle and Brennan exchanged glances. The girl's confession hadn't helped much and because she had become so upset Booth let her and her family go home.

Fortunately, obtaining the sex tapes from Sheriff Roach had given the group something that _did_ help.

"Well, you were right. This school is certainly serving the pudding." Brennan said, skipping to another video of another adolescent couple. Rachelle tried not to choke on her lemonade from laughing while Booth made a face.

"It's _stirring _the pudding." the FBI employees corrected while another tape played.

"Wait," Brennan called out, leaning forward in seat when her keen eyes spotted something on video. Her eyes narrowed. "Isn't that Mrs. Destry, Camden's mother?" she inquired, peering to her partners.

"Yeah, that is. What a heifer, but wait, who's the guy? That isn't Nestor, right?" Rachelle pondered aloud.

"That's Tucker, the roommate." Booth said.


End file.
